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Storyteller

From The project I am editing Disorganized Crime

The Exterminator woke up and tried to move, but his arms would not corporate, he took a deep breath, but choked, as the pungent scent of mold filled his lungs. He tried looking around, but his vision was blurred, so he blinked hard and slowly he was able to see.

He was sitting in the middle of a room, his arms strapped to the handles of a wooden chair, his feet shackled to the floor with iron chains, and a florescent light hung on the ceiling directly above him. Beyond the light was complete darkness. He fought against the restraints, but it was no use, he screamed, but his voice only echoed around him, so he sat there confused, wondering where he was. The last thing he remembered was sitting on his targets couch talking on the phone, now here he was for the first time in his career, he did not have control over a situation. Even when he was on missions with the military, he always knew where he was and what he had to do. He thought of his boss, that idiot Ramon, he had working for him gave the wrong address, he wondered why the boss keep such a fool around. The silence was broken when he heard a door open. He waited peering into the darkness.

 

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Storyteller

An excerpt from work in progess Disorganized Crime

Nelson drove onto a narrow street lined with newly build houses. He stopped in front of one of the houses; it was a brick house with beautiful bay windows, flower pots were on the window sills, baskets of flowers hung along the verandah, African bamboo wind chimes serenaded the early evening, Nelson felt a sudden peacefulness. The big wooden door had a colonial style design to, it just like the mansions he used to walk by in Byumba when he was a child, relics of the once colonial rule. He walked up to the door and rang the bell, a female voice responded telling him to come in.

He entered the house, it was meticulously decorated, and pictures on the walls, soft rusty coloured carpet, and a scent that reminded him of his mother’s rose garden. The hallway leading to the living room was white, he called this her walk of travels, there were pictures of her taken in several different countries Kenya, Zimbabwe, England, China even Tibet.  In every picture, she was always smiling, even when the pictures were of children suffering oppressive conditions. That is why he loved being around her, her constant joy of living was infectious. He walked into the living room, a beige coloured living room suit sat as if untouched, he went into the kitchen, and here too, everything was put in its proper place. In the middle of the room was an island with pots and pans hanging from a rack in the ceiling above it. He went to the fridge, it was the cleanest fridge he had ever seen, he got out a small bottle of orange juice and went back into the living room, she always kept orange juice for whenever he came over. He looked at the chairs and chose to sit in the black lazy boy next to the couch.

                She entered the room and for a second he forgot to breathe.

                “Hi Dianna.” He said smiling, she walked over to him, she moved so gracefully it seemed like she had floated into his arms, she clung to him, her warm body causing chill bumps to cover his body, her hugs always made him feel loved.

                “How have you been? I have not heard from you in a couple of days, why did you not answer your phone?” She said, a look of concern in her eyes, it was not like him not to answer her calls. Nelson did not respond,

                “Is something wrong?” She asked, Nelson looked at her, her golden brown hair moved gently as she spoke, her hazel eyes danced even with that concerned expression,

“Someone tried to kill me the other night,” he said, her expression of concerned deepened, and she reached over and rested her hands on his knees, she knew what he had been through, she had seen it first hand when she was in Rwanda. Nelson tingled all over, she had a way of making him relax, his whole body going limp like he had just came from a massage parlor. He looked at her hands; they were perfect,  like one you may see in a magazine advertising nail polish, or hand lotion, only hers were naturally beautiful, her teal coloured nail polish matched with her purple blouse that swayed gently when she moved

                “You have that look in your eyes; I have not seen that look in twelve years. You did not…….” She said,

                “No I did not kill him, he is very much alive.” Nelson interupted

                “So he escaped?” She asked, Nelson did not answer.

                “I don’t think I should tell you, the less you know the better.” He said looking into her eyes.

                “You should go to the police,” she said Nelson leaned forward.

                “No police, I have to find out who sent him myself, I don’t trust authority you know that.” He said, she took his hand and raised it to her chin,

                “You are not in Rwanda anymore Nelson you can start trusting people now,” she said gentle pressing his hand against her chin,

                “I know I should, but if the rebels sent him, there is nothing the cops here can do, there will be another one and another one, they will not stop until am dead.” He said, she got up and sat in his lap, she would always do that when he was down and it always managed to calm him down. She smelled of roses, her lips curled into a smile, her skin was evenly tanned.  He took a deep breath,          

“I know it’s been a long time, but revenge can be a master motivator, a lot of his supporters are committing atrocities today, I don’t see anyone doing anything to stop them.” He said, she kissed him on the forehead, by the way they are together, many people thought they were a couple, but all that was between them is this intense romantic tension that never seems to pan out.  She got up and walked into the kitchen he watched her walk away, it was not like he did not want to be with her, but he thought it would be unfair to put her through the nightmares and the depression he fought every day. She had come to the refugee camp with her parents to volunteer and they hit it off immediately, they spent countless hours talking and walking around the camp helping as many people as they could. Her parents had helped him escape to London just before the rebels attacked the camp, he had gotten his grammar schooling  finished and attended Oxford university, later she encouraged him to move to America and here he was, sitting in her living room, listening to her shuffle around in the kitchen.

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Storyteller

From one of the new projects Disorganized Crime.

Vince walked into a small room, the walls were painted cream, there were paintings and pictures on the everywhere. Vince went into the cramped living room, a man in his mid thirties sat nervously on a maroon leather couch, a fat man in a cheap grey suit sat next to him. Ramon stood in the small kitchen that was visible from the living room looking at Vince. Vince walked over to the love seat facing the man and sat down,

                “Hey Marty,” Vince smacking the man on his knee,

                “Hows is life treating you these days, how are the wife and kids?” Marty sat visible shaking.  He tried to respond but no words came out.

                “Whats wrong with you man we are all friends here right?” Marty shifted a little in his seat,

                “The boss is talking to you,” the fat man said smacking Marty behind the head,

                “No need for that Marty, here is a loyal man, he will never do anything to hurt us, is that right Mart?”  Vince said leaning forward and grabbing hold of Marty’s shoulder the man flinched and Vince shook his head,

                “Why are you so damn jumpy do you feel guilty about something?”  Vince looked at him and a strange silence filled the room.

                “O K here is how we are going to do this, I will ask you a question, you will answer it, but if I feel you are lying to me things may get quite unpleasant, do we understand each other?” Marty shook his head tears rolling down his face, Vince reached out and patted him on the cheek then sat back and rolled his eyes,

                “I hate when a grown man cry don’t do that it just serves to piss me off,”  Vince stared at Marty, the frightened man sniffed hard and tried to stop the tears from flowing,

                Now like I said, am going to ask you a question, and think before you answer, are we simpatico here?”  Ramon shifted from one leg to the next as Vince leaned forward looking into Marty’s eyes as if he felt he would find his answer in them,

                “Did you or did you not talk to the cops, remember be very conscious with your answer,” Marty sat his eyes as bigs as two moons around mars,

                “Well am waiting,” Vince insisted, the man sitting next to Marty smacked him on the arm. Marty grunted and started talking and for a second no words came out,

                “I had no choice,” He stuttered Vince chuckled,

                “You had no choice?  Don’t be an imbecile man you are educated give me an educated answer, analyze or something, make it intelligent yet entertaining,” Marty shook a little and tried to talk again,

                “They had me dead to right I had no choice…..” Vince interrupted him,

                “Don’t say that you had no choice, Ramon has no, choice he was born dumb witted,” The other men chuckled Vince continued, “The mayor had no choice his dick told him to purchase a whore, but this, this is life and death, your life and your death,” Vince sat back his eyes flashing with anger,

                “Am sorry!” Marty shouted between sobs. Vince leaned forward and punched him in the face. Blood sprayed into the air leaving small drops on the couch and the carpet. Marty cupped his nose with his hands, blood gushed through his fingers and ran down his arms.

                “You are sorry, were you going to be sorry when my daughters grew up without a family, when my beautiful wife suffers the shame of me being on trial huh?’  Marty looked up at him and for the first time he too seemed angry,

                “I have a family too,” he stuttered. Vince growled,

                “Who gives a shit about your family,’ Vince slapped him across the face sending blood in every direction,

                “Don’t you yell at me, did your mother not teach you any manners never yell at your boss,” He screamed then looked over at Ramon, the giant shook his head and Vince turned back to Marty,

                “As I was saying, damn it what was I saying,” Vince thought for a while. the room was silent except for the muffled sound of traffic going by on the street outside,

                “As I was saying you do know the price for ratting out friends right?” The fat man next to Marty spoke,

                “That’s not what you were saying boss,” Vince casted him an evil look then looked back at Marty,

                “Like I was saying, the price of being a rat is a painful death, that’s not from me thats just the way it is,” Marty was shaking harder now, his blue eyes were now grey, blood soaked into the light blue shirt he was wearing,

                “Take this piece of shit to the kitchen,” the fat man stood up and grabbed Marty’s arm. He resisted but the fat man grabbed him by the throat and yanked him off the couch, he fought all the way to the kitchen.

                The room was small, painted in puke green.  There was a dish washer, a small wooden dining table, and the sink was filled with dirty dishes.  There was a chair in the middle of the room, someone had spread plastic on the floor. on the counters, even on the dirty dishes. The fat man wrestled Marty to the chair and sat him down,

                “Please please, I have a family,” Vince stood in front of him for a second then punched him in the face,

                “I hate snitches, I hate them. Because of snitches like you whole countries fall even Jesus was snitched on,’ Vince stepped back and Ramon came forward and tied Marty’s arms to the chair then he proceeded to take his pants off. Marty struggled but to no avail,

                “Please My family,” Vince flew into a rage and grabbed Marty by his hair,

                “You did not think of that when you were about to get me sent up now be a man and take your punishment I hate crybabies!” he screamed and slapped Marty again,

                “To hell with all this talk, am becoming bored with this bitch, lets get started am going to really enjoy this,” he walked over to a dining chair that Ramon had placed in front of Marty and sat down. Ramon handed him his skittles and orange soda,

                “Now entertain me,” he said, the fat man walked over to the counter and got an electric cord that was attached to a battery and clipped it to Marty’s groin  Vince popped some skittles into his mouth,

                “Will you at least apologize to me I may make this less painful if you do,” Marty spat at him the red and white froth landed on his brand new lamb skin shoe. Vince leaned over and took out a tissue from his jacket pocket and calmly wiped the spit.  He looked at Ramon, the giant walked over and stuffed a rag into Marty’s mouth/  The frightened man tried to spit it out but the giant shoved most of his massive hand into Marty’s mouth. He gasped and choked but the giant was relentless. When Ramon was sure Marty was secured he stepped back and looked at Vince, Vince shook his head,

                “Do I get an apology that’s what friends do for each other?”  Marty tried to respond but the rag was too deep in his mouth Vince jumped up and slapped him several times, stopped and slapped him one last time. Blood flew into the air landing on the plastic like rain on a tinned roof. Marty moaned, Vince went back to the chair picked up the bag of skittles and popped some in his mouth,

                “Fry the bastard not well done just enough, “Vince laughed Ramon flicked the switch. Marty groaned the gag almost falling out of his mouth. Ramón flicked the switch again and Marty slumped forward twitching and laboring to breath. Ramon removed the rag and Marty threw up, the green bile covering Ramon’s brown Swede shoes. The fat man laughed his belly rolling as he did, the young man that was at the door was in the room now. He walked past Marty and Ramon and went to the fridge, got out some beers and handed the fat man one, Raman looked at the young man,

                “What the hell are you looking at keep doing your job,” he said with a snicker, Ramon glance over at him and for a second he looked like he was going to charge at the young man,

                “Just get me a rag and some water,” Ramon said, the young man stopped laughing

                “O K man don’t get your panties in a bunch,” he turned and went back into the kitchen. Vince took a drink of  soda smacked his lips and popped some more skittles into his mouth,

                “What the hell is this an intermission, this is not an opera get on with it,’ he said the other men laughed, Ramon went over to Marty grabbed his head and pulled it back,

                “You should have controlled yourself,” He picked the vomit soaked rag up and shoved it back into Marty’s mouth, let go of his head and turned the switch. Marty twitched and what looked like smoke floated out of his body as he shook and moaned, the scent of burning flesh filled the kitchen. The young man sat a bowl of water and a rag at Ramon’s feet,

“Damn, that scent is making me hungry, I could go for a double cheese burger right about now,” he looked over at the other man,

                Nah, I can go for a big steak myself, medium rear with lots of hot sauce, damn, my stomach is rumbling,” Vince looked over at the men,

                “After this we can go get a bite,”

                “Good idea,” the fat man said.  Ramon flicked the switch again. Marty convulsed choking on the rag, sweat poured down his forehead,

                “Hey don’t do that until I say when now I have missed some of the action,” Vince barked. Ramon apologized then flipped the switch off this time Marty was able to spit the rag out,          

                “Am sorry, am sorry please,” Vince leaned forward in his chair

                “What I did not hear you,” Marty tried to talk again but a dry whisper came out at first ten he coughed,

                “Am sorry please my kids don’t let them go through life without a father,” Vince looked at him for a second and there was another strange silence, the men not knowing what to expect next as Vince just sat there, cars went by on the street, the murmur of people walking by o the sidewalk, life was going on clueless to the events in the small kitchen. Vince looked at each man in turn then chuckled,

                “You almost got me there,” he said looked at Ramon and nodded his head,

                “This is getting boring let us wrap this up,” Ramon flicked the switch and Marty screamed and trashed around in the chair, smoke floated into the air, his eyes rolled back in his head, and his skin seemed to have this red glow to it, Vince popped more of the skittles into his mouth as he watched intently, to him there was something spiritual about watching someone die, maybe he could channel a little of their souls, maybe the good they had done would find its way into his soul.

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Fire and Sky

Fire and Sky

Save me a spot, where I can daydream of walking on a cloud of fire.