Okay, just to clear some stuff up heres a post just before beddy-bye time. I am going to finish Saviour Machines and publish it eventually but it seems like a much bigger project than my meager writing skills can handle right now. It'd be like painting the Sistine chapel with crayons. I need to get better by writing small stuff first.
I suppose I can give away what I'm working on right now since whats really keeping me going is feedback I get on here. I'm writing seven short stories, each one based off a different deadly sin, which is probably going to be called Seven Deadly Stories. Most of them are going to be pretty loose like the rough cut of the one I'm posting now called Sloth which has nothing to do with the sin. I just took the word and ran with it. It's only about little over 1000 words so far and I think it needs to be expanded, but here it is spelling and grammar errors and all:
Sloth
I remember it all so well, like it happened yesterday. Maybe it’s because lately I’ve been having nightmares about it, about him. It’s not something you would forget quickly though and I do still have these scars…but I’m getting a head of myself.
I grew up in a small town. We were small town people with small town values and everyone knew everyone else’s business, or thought they did. Everyone had their secrets too though. Ours was hidden away in the cellar. I remember how we’d be sitting down eating dinner, making small talk about how our days went when that noise would come up from down below, that low moaning cry that sent chills up my spine. I would look down at my plate and pretend I didn’t hear it but then Dad would glare at me tell me to go and feed it. Then I would slowly get up, taking as much time as I could and go into the kitchen to get it’s bucket of old potatoes and table scraps. What’s “it” you ask? Well I call it “it” since I don’t think it was quite human. My parents had named it Lawrence but I had nicknamed it sloth.
It didn’t look much like a sloth, in fact it didn’t look much like anything God in his wisdom had created on this earth, but that’s the closest thing I could compare it to. It had this nasty matted white fur and these long sharp claws, like sloths have but it wasn’t slow, in fact it was damn quick. It’s face was this horrible scrunched up mess of scraggly sharp teeth and it’s eyes were this horrible red color. That was the thing I hated the most about it, those damned eyes. It didn’t like the light so we kept it as dark as possible down there, and when I went down to feed it all I could see were its eyes glowing as it moved back and forth, scraping it’s claws on the ground, watching me.
It hated me and I knew that if it ever got loose it would kill me. Dad told me that was nonsense, that the thing was harmless and he would go down with me to pet it. It always played nice when Dad was around, it would innocently sniff at my hand and let me pet its horrible matted fur but when I tried to grab its scrap bucket away it would snarl and snap at me. One I got too close and it swiped my forehead. I had to get 5 stitches. Dad acted like it was my fault, like I had been teasing the horrible thing. I tried to tell him what really happened but Dad never listened to me. He loved Lawrence more than me and I never could understand it. Even after it got loose and…well, I’ll tell you what happened.
I had horrible stomach cramps that night and couldn’t fall asleep at all. I rolled around in bed holding my stomach till almost three am when it finally let up and I started to fall asleep. That’s when I heard it. That horrible scraping sound coming up the stairs. It would go up one stair and stop, like it was listening for something. It was so quiet that I could hear its breath, a slight pant, like a dog. I sat straight up in bed. There wasn’t going to be enough time to turn on a light, I rolled out of bed quick and grabbed a baseball bat that was leaning on the wall. Then I stood and waited and listened as that scraping noise got closer and closer till it was right outside my door.
It was hot that summer and I hadn’t closed the door tight so once it got up the stairs all it had to do was push it open. In my nightmares I can still see those eyes floating in the darkness, those damn red eyes staring right at me. Then it came for me and before I could react it was on top of me, scratching at my body, trying to get at my face. I screamed and above the its awful slobbering breath and throaty snarls I could hear my parents come running. My Dad slammed the door open and flicked on the light, the thing didn’t like light so he was able to pull it off me easily, dragging it back down to the basement.
Crying and in hysterics I yelled at my Mom, “Why don’t we just kill it? It’s horrible and I hate it, why don’t we just kill it?”
My mom just stood in the doorway and looked at me, her 12 year old daughter sitting on the floor covered in white foamy spit and blood and said “because your father loves it that’s why. Now go get cleaned up and get back in bed.” Then she walked off, probably to go smoke a cigarette outside.
I didn’t sleep for three whole nights after that.
I told my Dad that I couldn’t take it anymore. I couldn’t sleep at night, I was scared that he was going to get me. My Dad just smiled and said that he had put a stronger chain in, that he couldn’t break this one. He even said I didn’t have to feed Lawrence anymore. This wasn’t very heartening to me. I had to get rid of the thing and I had to do it soon…
I waited till a few days later when Dad was at work and Mom was at the grocery store , then I grabbed Dad’s 12 gauge shot gun and headed down the dark cellar steps. I think it knew what I was doing, it seemed restless, pacing back and forth and snarling at me. I pointed the gun at its head and it ran at me, hitting the end length of its chain and choking itself. Suddenly I didn’t want to kill it. It didn’t seem fair, it was like shooting a dog in a cage. Then the chain broke and it hit me full force, knocking me to the floor. I was screaming and it my head, I could feel its teeth trying to rip away flesh as its claws tore and scratched. I still had the gun in my had but I couldn’t get in position to fire. That’s when I heard my Dad yell and come running down the stairs.
“Don’t hurt him, Oh God don’t hurt him please!”
Then he came running and he started kicking me in the head. He was kicking me because I was punching it in its ugly face trying to get it off of me. I got my legs up under it and give it a hard push, landing it on its back and giving me time to get the gun back in position before it jumped on me again. It jumped and I pulled the trigger.
I heard Dad scream as the gun went off blowing a large hole in the thing’s midsection, spraying blood and flesh and bits of spinal cord out its backside. Sloth lay on the ground trying to get up, trying to get back at me. Before my Dad could get over to it I had put the gun to its head and pulled the trigger, turning its ugly face into a mass of brain and blood and skull fragments. Then I stood over it, breathing hard, blood running in my eyes.
“I hate you,” I whispered, “I hate you you stupid ugly thing.”
Then I felt a hand on my shoulder turning me around and then someone hit me full on in the face knocking me down. It turned out to be my dad, tears streaming down his face.
“You stupid girl!” he screamed “You stupid small minded girl do you know what you just did? Do you have any idea?”
I yelled back “Yeah, I saved my own life no thanks to you, you and your stupid fucking thing!” It was the first time I had ever cursed at anybody and I didn’t even realize it.
“You stupid girl, you killed your brother! Lawrence was your brother, Oh God!” Then he threw up on the floor.
A week later I went to live with my Aunt out in the country. I asked her why Dad had loved Sloth so much. She said she didn’t know but she thought it might have had something to do with a puppy he had when he was a little boy that had a messed up leg. That didn’t seem like a very satisfactory answer to me.
Oh I remember, I remember alright. Some things you can’t forget no matter how hard you try. And I still have these scars…
So yeah...its total poop right? Certainly not something anyone would buy to read, yet anyways. I can't stay awake any longer, good night.
Showing posts with label saviour machines. Show all posts
Showing posts with label saviour machines. Show all posts
Monday, January 19, 2009
Thursday, January 15, 2009
More Saviour Machines
Well, one good response is as good as any I suppose, thanks Phantom Spitter! I haven't had much faith in my writing skills lately so I stopped writing for awhile and this story just sort of ruminated. I thought it would make a great graphic novel, but thats probably because I was scared that I would mess it up if I tried to actually write any of it. I'm my own worst critic I'm afraid.
I've decided not to post all of the story since now I'm actually kind of excited about trying to get all or pieces of it published. It's too bad that most magazines are only publishing stuff by well established authors, and not that much anymore either. The short story market is kind of dead unfortunately. Well, I guess that's what blogs are for right? I might not be getting paid but at least people are reading my stuff. If anyone knows a good magazine that takes short stories, please send the address my way.
Okay, I'll skip ahead in the story a bit to introduce another character.
This part is called:
The Amazing Alice Steals Her First Heart
Alice was lying on the floor, quietly doodling pictures on pieces of scrap paper when a pounding at the door of her room made her jump and scratch a large ugly hole in a cute little puppy she had been drawing.
"YOU LITTLE BITCH! YOU GET OUT HERE RIGHT NOW!"
That was her step dad of course, but his yelling and pounding were so loud she had to put her fingers in her ears and even then she could still hear him. She closed her eyes and tried to shut him out. Surprisingly, she found that when she concentrated hard enough she could turn the volume down to almost nothing. Being twelve years old and never been told that this wasn't something people could normally do, she just smiled and went back to making funny pictures. Suddenly her ears popped hard and the ugly noise came back into sharp focus.
"I'M NOT GOING TO TELL YOU ONE MORE TIME! YOU OPEN THIS DOOR OR I'M KICKING THE FUCKING THING DOWN AND THEN YOU'LL BE SORRY YOU WERE EVER BORN!"
Could he do that?, she thought. As if in answer the door frame gave a hideous squeal and shot out splinters of wood. A sickening feeling grew in her stomach and Alice realized that her mother wasn't home and if the tub of lard did manage to kick down the door, she was in very big trouble. This sickening feeling gave way to panic and she lunged for the small window above her desk.
She got it unlatched and was halfway through when the surprisingly sturdy door finally gave way with a sickening crack and slammed open hard, the knob leaving a hole in the wall behind it. Panic gave way to hysteria now, Alice struggled harder to get through the small window but only succeeded in getting herself stuck fast.
She could hear him breathing behind her as clear as a church bell on a quiet summer afternoon, could even make out the slight wheeze from his smokers lungs. Then she could smell him, his rancid unwashed body reeking of whiskey and stale tobacco. There was another smell there too, one that she had never experienced before. It was sharp as a knife in her nostrils and it scared her more than anything else in her short life ever had.
Then his hands were on her legs and with one quick yank she was over the desk, lying on the floor in front of him. Surprisingly he didn't look mad at all, in fact there was a smile on his fat ugly face. Alice was confused but wary. He laughed and said "Alice, you've been a bad girl and I think you need to be punished but I'm not going to beat you. I've got a much better way. Much more fun for both of us Now just lay back and relax."
Then he grabbed her arms and lay on top of her, pinning her to the floor.
"Get off get off get off!" Alice screamed in a blind panic and tried to squirm out from underneath him.
He sat up and belted her across the face. "Okay, if you want to play rough, we'll play rough little girl." He said through a gritted smile. She could see the tobacco stains on his teeth.
Then he hit her again, bloodying her lip and tore at her clothes, ripping her yellow dress to shreds. He laughed again and in one swift move tore off her panties.
I can't believe this is happening, she thought, oh God please make this stop, please make this stop! She wiggled an arm free and hit out at him with her fist trying meekly to fight him off.
"Little bitch" He said and laughed, "what the fuck are you going to do? You're going to lay there and take your punishment like a good little girl is supposed to."
Then he lay on top her of her again and fumbled with something inside his sweatpants. Then all at once, time slowed almost to a stand still. Alice could see dust particles hanging perfectly still in a shaft of sunlight from the open window. She looked at the face of her stepfather and could count the beads of sweat on his forehead. Then she felt it. It wasn't in yet but it was touching a part of her that no one else should have been allowed to touch. The blind panic and hysteria that had overtaken her gave way to unbridled rage and she pushed him with all her strength.
Alice couldn't believe what she was seeing. Still in slow motion, her fat blubbery disgusting pig of a step dad was flying through the air, still in slow motion. She watched in shock as he hit the far wall and smashed an outline of his body into the cheap plaster, knocking a framed picture onto his head.
Now time really did seem to stop as they both sat looking at each other, expressions of shock writ large on both of their faces. Then his face turned beet red and he ran at her screaming,
"YOU FUCKING BIIIIIIITCH!!!!"
Alice stood up quickly, closed her eyes, and swung her fist out to offer some sort of weak resistance. She felt it hit something hard which broke and snapped beneath her fist and then her hand was touching something warm and wet and pulsating. With her eyes still closed, she grabbed at it and pulled.
When she opened her eyes her stepfather was standing in front of her, mouth ajar, staring at the hole in his chest. He looked like he was about to say something but instead he collapsed into the pool of blood already soaking into the cheap shag carpet.
Alice stood and looked at the thing in her hands as it stopped beating. Her last thought right before her mind went was that it wasn't shaped like a heart at all, it wasn't even pink. And then the whole world rang with her screams.
I've decided not to post all of the story since now I'm actually kind of excited about trying to get all or pieces of it published. It's too bad that most magazines are only publishing stuff by well established authors, and not that much anymore either. The short story market is kind of dead unfortunately. Well, I guess that's what blogs are for right? I might not be getting paid but at least people are reading my stuff. If anyone knows a good magazine that takes short stories, please send the address my way.
Okay, I'll skip ahead in the story a bit to introduce another character.
This part is called:
The Amazing Alice Steals Her First Heart
Alice was lying on the floor, quietly doodling pictures on pieces of scrap paper when a pounding at the door of her room made her jump and scratch a large ugly hole in a cute little puppy she had been drawing.
"YOU LITTLE BITCH! YOU GET OUT HERE RIGHT NOW!"
That was her step dad of course, but his yelling and pounding were so loud she had to put her fingers in her ears and even then she could still hear him. She closed her eyes and tried to shut him out. Surprisingly, she found that when she concentrated hard enough she could turn the volume down to almost nothing. Being twelve years old and never been told that this wasn't something people could normally do, she just smiled and went back to making funny pictures. Suddenly her ears popped hard and the ugly noise came back into sharp focus.
"I'M NOT GOING TO TELL YOU ONE MORE TIME! YOU OPEN THIS DOOR OR I'M KICKING THE FUCKING THING DOWN AND THEN YOU'LL BE SORRY YOU WERE EVER BORN!"
Could he do that?, she thought. As if in answer the door frame gave a hideous squeal and shot out splinters of wood. A sickening feeling grew in her stomach and Alice realized that her mother wasn't home and if the tub of lard did manage to kick down the door, she was in very big trouble. This sickening feeling gave way to panic and she lunged for the small window above her desk.
She got it unlatched and was halfway through when the surprisingly sturdy door finally gave way with a sickening crack and slammed open hard, the knob leaving a hole in the wall behind it. Panic gave way to hysteria now, Alice struggled harder to get through the small window but only succeeded in getting herself stuck fast.
She could hear him breathing behind her as clear as a church bell on a quiet summer afternoon, could even make out the slight wheeze from his smokers lungs. Then she could smell him, his rancid unwashed body reeking of whiskey and stale tobacco. There was another smell there too, one that she had never experienced before. It was sharp as a knife in her nostrils and it scared her more than anything else in her short life ever had.
Then his hands were on her legs and with one quick yank she was over the desk, lying on the floor in front of him. Surprisingly he didn't look mad at all, in fact there was a smile on his fat ugly face. Alice was confused but wary. He laughed and said "Alice, you've been a bad girl and I think you need to be punished but I'm not going to beat you. I've got a much better way. Much more fun for both of us Now just lay back and relax."
Then he grabbed her arms and lay on top of her, pinning her to the floor.
"Get off get off get off!" Alice screamed in a blind panic and tried to squirm out from underneath him.
He sat up and belted her across the face. "Okay, if you want to play rough, we'll play rough little girl." He said through a gritted smile. She could see the tobacco stains on his teeth.
Then he hit her again, bloodying her lip and tore at her clothes, ripping her yellow dress to shreds. He laughed again and in one swift move tore off her panties.
I can't believe this is happening, she thought, oh God please make this stop, please make this stop! She wiggled an arm free and hit out at him with her fist trying meekly to fight him off.
"Little bitch" He said and laughed, "what the fuck are you going to do? You're going to lay there and take your punishment like a good little girl is supposed to."
Then he lay on top her of her again and fumbled with something inside his sweatpants. Then all at once, time slowed almost to a stand still. Alice could see dust particles hanging perfectly still in a shaft of sunlight from the open window. She looked at the face of her stepfather and could count the beads of sweat on his forehead. Then she felt it. It wasn't in yet but it was touching a part of her that no one else should have been allowed to touch. The blind panic and hysteria that had overtaken her gave way to unbridled rage and she pushed him with all her strength.
Alice couldn't believe what she was seeing. Still in slow motion, her fat blubbery disgusting pig of a step dad was flying through the air, still in slow motion. She watched in shock as he hit the far wall and smashed an outline of his body into the cheap plaster, knocking a framed picture onto his head.
Now time really did seem to stop as they both sat looking at each other, expressions of shock writ large on both of their faces. Then his face turned beet red and he ran at her screaming,
"YOU FUCKING BIIIIIIITCH!!!!"
Alice stood up quickly, closed her eyes, and swung her fist out to offer some sort of weak resistance. She felt it hit something hard which broke and snapped beneath her fist and then her hand was touching something warm and wet and pulsating. With her eyes still closed, she grabbed at it and pulled.
When she opened her eyes her stepfather was standing in front of her, mouth ajar, staring at the hole in his chest. He looked like he was about to say something but instead he collapsed into the pool of blood already soaking into the cheap shag carpet.
Alice stood and looked at the thing in her hands as it stopped beating. Her last thought right before her mind went was that it wasn't shaped like a heart at all, it wasn't even pink. And then the whole world rang with her screams.
Wednesday, January 14, 2009
The Saviour Machines, Part One
This the first part of a rough rough rough draft of what I hope will be a very long story. If you guys hate it I'll stop right here and hedge my bets with something else. Enjoy...or not.
The Saviour Machines
"President Joe once had a dream
The world held his hand, gave their pledge
So he told them his scheme for a Saviour Machine
They called it the Prayer, its answer was law
Its logic stopped war, gave them food
How they adored till it cried in its boredom
'Please don't believe in me, please disagree with me
Life is too easy, a plague seems quite feasible now
or maybe a war, or I may kill you all'"
David Bowie - Saviour Machine
Chapter 1 - Gathering
Part 1 - Elegant Eddy dances with the fearsome three
Eddy pulled on his cigarette till there was nothing left and then threw it in the gutter. Then he stood, his cheap trench coat billowing around him, almost as if he was eying the city up. His super sensitive sense of smell picked up the almost overpowering stench of garbage and dirt that normals could pick up as well as the underlying odor of decay and rot that the they usually couldn't. His ears could pick up sounds from many miles around: gunshots, screams, barking stray dogs, and many many cars. His hawk-eyes took in the old dilapidated buildings, rusty street signs, and piles of filth. He smiled slightly and marveled at how little had changed since the time he had left for clean air and quiet countryside, back when he was only twelve years old. The buildings were a little more decayed but their residents were still pretty much the same. It was almost nightfall and the people who actually worked during the day hurried to get locked into their apartments before the sun completely set and the scum of the night took over. They hurried past him and their tired strained eyes didn't even see him. One by one he heard their doors slam and the locks snap shut. Not that they would really keep anyone out, but if it helped them sleep better at night...
Eddy sighed and walked down to the corner of fifth street. He pulled out another cigarette and lit it as he turned onto Smut Avenue.
Smut avenue was just what it sounded like. That wasn't really it's name, but it had been called that for so long that no one really cared what its name really was. For miles and miles along the street filthy adult video stores, porno theaters, and peep shows set up shop. There were also hookers here, lots of them. There were hookers everywhere in the city but Smut ave. was where you went when you were desperate. They didn't look very nice but they were cheap and sometimes thats all that mattered, that is if you didn't mind a missing eye or the occasional lost limb. You also had to be careful choosing a girl if you didn't want to end up with one that used to be a man, or one was really was a man after all.
Ed smoked as he walked along the grimy street, the neon lights of the shops making his face glow weird shades of green and red. Some of the girls tired to hustle him a bit, most of them didn't bother. Everyone knew they were here and they didn't have to try very hard to drum up business. He thought it might be nice to spend a night with one of them, it'd been a very long time since he'd had even a little company, but the Oracle had told him where to go and who to look for and he didn't like to think what would happen if he failed or even stopped for a brief moment. He was on a mission from God after all.
He smiled at the pimps lurking in the shadows, the real money making business men of the ave. They practically ran this place and if you messed with any of the girls, your best bet was to get out of the city or wake up one morning missing several organs. Or worse. Not that they were adverse to harsh punishment themselves as one could plainly see by all the bruises and scars visible under the neon lights.
After about a mile of seedy shops and beat up hookers he turned down a side street. He had quite a bit of walking to do yet but he wasn't tired. It took a lot to wear out an immortal. Even before he hit the section of the street where almost all the street lamps were out, he knew someone was following him. Not just one somebody, but two. By the sound of it, two males about mid-twenties, both wearing beat up old sneakers. He threw out his cigarette and kept walking, giving no indication that he heard them at all. Ed also knew that someone was going to jump out of the alleyway before it happened and he stopped short just as someone did. His steely eyes adjusted to the dark and he could see the youth perfectly: long dirty blonde hair, ripped up t-shirt and Glasgow smile along both corners of his mouth. The youth laughed and pulled out a long switchblade.
"I don't have any money, so just let me through, I don't want any trouble." said Ed giving no indication that he knew there were two more people behind him as he heard them sneak up. The youth give a low sort of laugh.
"We don't want your money man, we're out for kicks tonight." The youth said as a pair of arms circled around Eddie's neck. Dirty blonde laughed hysterically and plunged the knife into his stomach, twisting it with a manic sort of glee. Eddie didn't flinch but grabbed the testicles of the youth behind him and squeezed, feeling them pop like a pair of ripe grapes. He felt the arms let go and in one swift motion he grabbed the blade out of his guts and sliced the dirty blonde who fell to his knees, clutching his throat, blood seeping through his fingers. One swift kick from Eddie's beat up army boots and the head was off, rolling down the filthy pavement before running up against a dumpster and stopping. He turned and picked up the boy who had grabbed him, a dirty piece of shit who looked about 18, and very neatly put him out of his misery with a well practiced jab to the brain stem with the switch-blade. The third punk stood watching with his mouth open till Eddie lunged at him and he ran as fast as he could back down the street. Eddie stepped into the weak flickering light of the street lamp and watched the slit in his stomach slowly heal itself up. Bastard kids, he thought, put a fucking hole in my coat. He gave the dirty blonde head a swift kick as he walked past. Just a few more miles, he thought, and I can find the old man and get the Hell out of this cesspool. Although he had to admit, he hadn't had this much for a long time, the smell was starting to get to his head.
More tomorrow if you guys want it!
The Saviour Machines
"President Joe once had a dream
The world held his hand, gave their pledge
So he told them his scheme for a Saviour Machine
They called it the Prayer, its answer was law
Its logic stopped war, gave them food
How they adored till it cried in its boredom
'Please don't believe in me, please disagree with me
Life is too easy, a plague seems quite feasible now
or maybe a war, or I may kill you all'"
David Bowie - Saviour Machine
Chapter 1 - Gathering
Part 1 - Elegant Eddy dances with the fearsome three
Eddy pulled on his cigarette till there was nothing left and then threw it in the gutter. Then he stood, his cheap trench coat billowing around him, almost as if he was eying the city up. His super sensitive sense of smell picked up the almost overpowering stench of garbage and dirt that normals could pick up as well as the underlying odor of decay and rot that the they usually couldn't. His ears could pick up sounds from many miles around: gunshots, screams, barking stray dogs, and many many cars. His hawk-eyes took in the old dilapidated buildings, rusty street signs, and piles of filth. He smiled slightly and marveled at how little had changed since the time he had left for clean air and quiet countryside, back when he was only twelve years old. The buildings were a little more decayed but their residents were still pretty much the same. It was almost nightfall and the people who actually worked during the day hurried to get locked into their apartments before the sun completely set and the scum of the night took over. They hurried past him and their tired strained eyes didn't even see him. One by one he heard their doors slam and the locks snap shut. Not that they would really keep anyone out, but if it helped them sleep better at night...
Eddy sighed and walked down to the corner of fifth street. He pulled out another cigarette and lit it as he turned onto Smut Avenue.
Smut avenue was just what it sounded like. That wasn't really it's name, but it had been called that for so long that no one really cared what its name really was. For miles and miles along the street filthy adult video stores, porno theaters, and peep shows set up shop. There were also hookers here, lots of them. There were hookers everywhere in the city but Smut ave. was where you went when you were desperate. They didn't look very nice but they were cheap and sometimes thats all that mattered, that is if you didn't mind a missing eye or the occasional lost limb. You also had to be careful choosing a girl if you didn't want to end up with one that used to be a man, or one was really was a man after all.
Ed smoked as he walked along the grimy street, the neon lights of the shops making his face glow weird shades of green and red. Some of the girls tired to hustle him a bit, most of them didn't bother. Everyone knew they were here and they didn't have to try very hard to drum up business. He thought it might be nice to spend a night with one of them, it'd been a very long time since he'd had even a little company, but the Oracle had told him where to go and who to look for and he didn't like to think what would happen if he failed or even stopped for a brief moment. He was on a mission from God after all.
He smiled at the pimps lurking in the shadows, the real money making business men of the ave. They practically ran this place and if you messed with any of the girls, your best bet was to get out of the city or wake up one morning missing several organs. Or worse. Not that they were adverse to harsh punishment themselves as one could plainly see by all the bruises and scars visible under the neon lights.
After about a mile of seedy shops and beat up hookers he turned down a side street. He had quite a bit of walking to do yet but he wasn't tired. It took a lot to wear out an immortal. Even before he hit the section of the street where almost all the street lamps were out, he knew someone was following him. Not just one somebody, but two. By the sound of it, two males about mid-twenties, both wearing beat up old sneakers. He threw out his cigarette and kept walking, giving no indication that he heard them at all. Ed also knew that someone was going to jump out of the alleyway before it happened and he stopped short just as someone did. His steely eyes adjusted to the dark and he could see the youth perfectly: long dirty blonde hair, ripped up t-shirt and Glasgow smile along both corners of his mouth. The youth laughed and pulled out a long switchblade.
"I don't have any money, so just let me through, I don't want any trouble." said Ed giving no indication that he knew there were two more people behind him as he heard them sneak up. The youth give a low sort of laugh.
"We don't want your money man, we're out for kicks tonight." The youth said as a pair of arms circled around Eddie's neck. Dirty blonde laughed hysterically and plunged the knife into his stomach, twisting it with a manic sort of glee. Eddie didn't flinch but grabbed the testicles of the youth behind him and squeezed, feeling them pop like a pair of ripe grapes. He felt the arms let go and in one swift motion he grabbed the blade out of his guts and sliced the dirty blonde who fell to his knees, clutching his throat, blood seeping through his fingers. One swift kick from Eddie's beat up army boots and the head was off, rolling down the filthy pavement before running up against a dumpster and stopping. He turned and picked up the boy who had grabbed him, a dirty piece of shit who looked about 18, and very neatly put him out of his misery with a well practiced jab to the brain stem with the switch-blade. The third punk stood watching with his mouth open till Eddie lunged at him and he ran as fast as he could back down the street. Eddie stepped into the weak flickering light of the street lamp and watched the slit in his stomach slowly heal itself up. Bastard kids, he thought, put a fucking hole in my coat. He gave the dirty blonde head a swift kick as he walked past. Just a few more miles, he thought, and I can find the old man and get the Hell out of this cesspool. Although he had to admit, he hadn't had this much for a long time, the smell was starting to get to his head.
More tomorrow if you guys want it!
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