Tuesday, November 29, 2005


[Scene in the Rain]: {Part 2}... :: Rendezvous ----- Detective Story is on hold for now.

Inside an old warehouse a man is waiting. He sits on top of several wooden crates, looking down below. He is a tad overweight but armed and dangerous. He is tall and he wears street clothes. He sits there, waiting for news from the mission.
The warehouse is not much bigger than a hangar. There are boxes all over the building with chains and pulleys hanging from the ceiling. Steel beams and pipes run along the walls and the roof. He can see the rain pouring outside, through the windows near the ceiling. The warehouse is old and it was an inconspicuous place for a meeting.

Suddenly a young man appears at the entrance. He appears to be eighteen to twenty-three years old. He is tired and drenched with rain. He staggers into the building and walks over to a crate and leans on it. He slides down and puts his back to the wall. He looks tired and exhausted. He breathes heavily, in and out as he relaxes down into the corner.
"Kendric," says the man on top of the boxes.
The shooter with the goatee looks up.
"Where's your gun?"
Kendric tosses out a small pistol from his jacket.
"No, your other gun. The one we gave you."
Kendric looks up. "I don't got it," he whispers.
"What do you mean you don't got it? But you killed him right?"
Kendric looks down with his mouth cracked open. He is still cold from the rain and he is shivering.
"You killed him, right?"

There's a problem... and they both know it.
The chubby man looks down on him. "They're gonna be here any minute..." He pauses and takes a deep breath. "Once they know what you've done, they're not gonna like it..."
Kendric knows that, and it's evident in his facial expression.
"Don't you know what they'll do to you...?" Says the chubby man on top of the boxes.
There is a pause.
"What should I do...?" Kendric looks up.
The chubby man gulps. "You have to get out of here."
An automobile is heard approaching through the roaring rain. It's lights shine into the warehouse windows. Kendric knows who it is. They're coming for him...

Kendric gets up. He grabs his gun from the floor and starts to limp toward the exit. One arm is grabbing his other and his coat hangs from his back. He knows he has to get out of here.
Back outside, three men get out of the automobile and enter the warehouse. They are all wearing dark hats and trench coats. They are wearing suits and ties underneath their coats.
"Hey kid, where'ya going?" One of them yells as he enters the warehouse.
Kendric stops.
"You find your target?" The man asks.
The young man turns around and faces them. He stares into their eyes.
"You killed him right?" Smiles the man in the trench coat.
Kendric looks as if he was in a daze. He thinks back to that fatal moment. "...No," he almost whispers.
The man stops smiling. "What...?"
They stare back at each other.
"You didn't kill him?" He raises his voice.
They are silent for several seconds. The man in the trench coat looks around a little and then speaks up. "Well then... you know what we're gonna have to do to you. You know that there's no room for failure." He flips a coin and proceeds to put it in his pocket. He unsuspectingly lowers his hand by his gun holster.
Kendric fires a bullet at the man's hand. Blood splatters into the air. BAM. BAM. Two more shots into both of his partners. Kendric knows they wont stay down for long. Suddenly, he turns to his left and sprints for the exit of the building. He runs out into the roaring rain and starts his escape. He can hear the voices of his pursuers shouting behind him.

Outside, he is in the industrial section of the city. Two story buildings line the streets. Shops, marketplaces, and apartments surround him. It's raining and the street lamps are on. Old automobiles are parked along the street. It's dark. Night had just fell.
He runs through the puddles and the cracked streets. He looks behind him and sees two of his pursuers firing at him. They miss and the bullets scatter around him. He can hardly hear. The rain surrounds him and the city lamps provide little light. He's cold from the wet rain, but he doesn't care. He has to get away. He knows that. If he's caught, he's certain he will die.
He makes a left and runs into a dark alley. The alley has old brick walls and a clothes line hangs two stories above him. It's a dead end. He knows he cant turn back. He knows he has to do something.

There's a fire escape. It looks like it goes to the top of the building. It's his last chance. He runs forward and jumps to the bottom rung of the ladder. He starts to climb it. One at a time now... He's almost to the second floor. He knows he can make it. He knows his three pursuers are still far behind him.

Bang. The bullet flies through the air and hits him. Smoke rises from the weapon. Kendric falls down and hits the ground. It's a hard drop and he screams in pain. The bullet pierced his arm and blood is scattered all over the wall. The blood mingles with the puddles of water on the ground.
A dark shadow approches him from behind. His attacker has his gun out still, ready to fire again. Kendric reaches for his gun in his holster. If he can just reach it...

Bang. Kendric screams again. The bullet flies through his right hand and the blood splatters on his clothes. Smokes rises from the nozzle of the attacker's gun. He is relentless, he gives no mercy.
Kendric tries to crawl from his attacker. Anywhere, anywhere farther away from his attacker; that is his only goal right now.
Bang. He yells in agony. The bullet goes through his leg. Blood spills everywhere. Bang. Another bullet in his other leg. He falls down completely and lays in the pouring rain. Four bullets. Four screams.

His attacker stands above him, his shadow overcasting Kendric's entire body. There is blood all over the floor. His attacker is tall and wearing a trench coat. He is not one of the first three attackers. Skillfully, he holsters his gun, knowing his target is helpless. Next, he slowly takes out a cigarette and lights it in the rain. He sticks it up to his lip and blows.

He stands there in the dark alley, above his prey, and blows his cigarette. "You know son... you're pathetic."
The young man is lying on the ground, too pained to scream anymore.
The tall man stands above him, blowing his cigarette. "You actually think you can run away? Aw come on. I don't think you know who you're dealing with."
He looks down at his target. His target is lying in the rain, bloody and helpless. "That's what you get for not doing what you're told. You brought it on yourself." He paused and smoked his cigarette. "Whether you're to live or not... that's up for the boss to decide."
The young man lies on the ground, still alive, listening to his attacker's every word.
"That's what you get boy... that's what you get." He throws the cigarette onto the ground and steps on it. He walks away into the street, leaving the young man in the rain.
"Fonso? Fonso you there?" Shouts a voice in the distance.
"Yeah I got him," says the attacker.
Kendric, with an ounce of life left in him, pulls out his gun and aims for his attacker. Fonso's back is facing him and he is looking out into the street.
Fonso turns around before Kendric has a chance to fire. Bang. The gun flies out of Kendric's hand and back into the corner of the alley. The rain hits his head and he trembles in pain. He was foolish to have tried to retaliate.
Fonso looks down on him. "Don't even think about it son."

Kendric lies in the pouring rain, helpless and defeated.

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Monday, November 28, 2005

Scene in the Rain...

Please note: This is not Detective Story and has nothing to do with it. Have a nice day.

The gun is shaking. His arm is not steady. He looks tired, maybe even exhuasted. A look of fear and uncertainty is seen in his eyes. His loose hair hangs over his forehead. The gun is shaking. His finger is trying to pull the trigger, yet the mind or the heart does not want to. He stares forward; stares at his target.
The shooter has a goatee--black hair. He is young... yet old at the same time. He stands there in the rain. The stone path trembles beneath his shaking legs. It is slippery, his feet have a hard time balancing. He still stares forward. He still shakes the gun. He still does not pull the trigger.
He's cold, cold inside and cold outside. He does not know anymore. He doesn't know what to choose. He doesn't know what's right, what's wrong. He looks forward at his target.

They are on a hillside, yet in the heart of a city. A park surrounds them. Trees line the hill and there is a black fence potruding along the hill, parallel to them. Skyscrapers are visible around them. Its overcast and cloudy. The rain continues to fall.

The other man faces him. He stares into his eyes.

They are both silent. The shooter drops the gun. It hits the ground and slides in the rain.
He looks up to face his target. "...Get out of here," he orders him.
His target acknowledges him and slowly turns around to walk away in the hazy distance.

He knows he's failed his mission, but he doesn't care. He falls onto the ground. His hands are shaking and he is trembling. His gun lies below him in the grass. He reaches forward to grab it, but stops. He leaves it be.

He stands alone in the rain on the trodden path. He's cold and uncertain. He doesn't know anymore... He doesn't know.

Tears are almost falling from his eyes. He tries to get a grip of himself, he's a grown man. He manages to stand up. His hands are shaking so he makes a fist to stop it. He turns around and leaves this place.

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Friday, November 25, 2005

Session # 4

Session 4: Voice in the Dark

I checked my watch: four fourty-two. If this guy was serious, I hoped he was still there.
I looked out the window of the cab and the rain was pouring harder than ever now.
Suddenly the taxi slowed to a halt.
"Well... we're here," the cab driver told me.
I glanced over toward him. "Thanks." I handed him some money and left the cab. I shut the door behind me and stood out in the roaring rain. The deli stood in front of me but it was closed at this hour. I looked to my left and my right. Everything was pretty much dark and there were a few cars parked on the street. Several street lamps lined the sidewalk. The fog was still thick and I could see my breath. It would be hours still until sunrise. No one was in sight...

"Over here."
There was a dark alley to my right. I could hear his voice come from over there. I turned to face him. His figure was concealed by the shadows and his face was in the dark. I could make out he was wearing a heavy coat and a hat. His hands were in his pockets and he was standing in the shadows of the alley.
"Come on." He motioned me to come over towards him. I thought his voice sounded hauntingly familiar to me.
I walked over to him. "Who are you? What do you want? And where's my one-hundred bucks?"
"You know... you're a fool." I could almost see him smile.
He pulled out a gun on me.
"Hey, I don't want any trouble." I raised up my hands and began to walk backwards.
"Too late buddy."

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Tuesday, November 22, 2005

Session # 3

Session 3: Phone Call

ring ring.
It must be at least four a.m.
ring ring.
Forget agout it, sleep is more important.
ring ring.
You can skip this one, you're just too tired.
ring ring.
Well... maybe you should get it, it might be important.

Another case down the drain, good job. All you had to do was get up and pick up the phone.
I walked over to the window and looked outside. Rain was still pouring. A storm must be coming in...
I glanced over to the clock: four twenty-one. Should've picked up the phone...

ring ring. It started up again.
"This guy must be desperate," I mumbled to myself.
I walked over to the phone and picked up the receiver.
"Hello?" I said.
"Hello? Mr. Shaster?"
"Who is this?" I asked.
"I--I need some help." His voice was trembling.
"Well bare in mind, I'm a P.I. not a help desk."
"I need your help fast." He sounded afraid.
"Who is this?" I questioned.
"Come to 42nd street, outside the deli."
"I'm not going anywhere unless you tell me who this is."
"I'll pay you one hundred dollars up front if you accept my case."
"Deal. When do you want me to come?"
"Come now, fast. Please."
"All right, I'm on my way," I said.
He hung up. I could hear the dial tone.

I gathered my things and prepared myself to go out into the cold, rainy night. I knew I might not be back soon, so I grabbed a bite and set some food down for Max.

I grabbed my coat and pocketed my gun. I set on my hat and exited the apartment.

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Sunday, November 20, 2005

Detective Story: Session # 2

Session # 2: A rainy night

I stepped out of the apartment onto the street. I was greeted by a hazy fog, the mumbled city noise, a heavy rain, and one of those depressing days of the year. The rain fell, and it poured hard. The fog was moderately thick. I put on my trench coat and bundled up.
I spotted my magnum on the concrete sidewalk and picked up it from the ground. Cadnium was nowhere in sight. Lost him... again.
I lowered my hat and began my walk home. It was a cold night... one of those nights where you think about your life and time passes slowly. Yeah, I was a heavy thinker.

I could see my breath as I walked through the streets. The city was alive tonight, but cars were scarce. I could see the spirit of the 20s all around me.
The P.I. business was slow, and having business rivals didn't help at all. I was having a hard enough time making a living for myself.

I arrived at my "office" as I called it, a short time later. A long while back, I rented out an apartment where I currently lived, and I had my clients come there too. I stepped off the wet and murky streets and came up to the apartment entrance. I stamped my feet on the floor mat and swiped the rain off from my hat. I eagearly opened the door and entered the warm building, waiting to get out of the rain.

I trampled up the stairs, a tired an old man. I finally made it to the second floor and entered my little "home." I entered the room and shut the door behind me, greeted inside by my cat. He put a smile on my face for the first time in a while. He was light orange, with some white on him. He would rub against my legs every time I got home.
I looked down at him. "You must be hungry huh?"
If I was lucky, he respond with a purr or a simple, "meow."

I threw my coat on the table and slumped down into the couch. My messy apartment was... well, really, a mess. It was a small one bedroom, with a living room and a small kitchen. The living room was populated with a busted up couch, an old table, and there was a painting or two on the walls. I had a desk somewhere, where I would file all my paperwork, but it seemed to disappear after months of amateur cases.

I was tired... I looked out the window and found more rain. Yeah... It was just one of those lazy days.

I went to the kitchen and got a bite for myself and Max.
I knew it was time to call it a night. I layed down on my couch, too tired to go to my bedroom, and got myself comfortable. I had a long day, and my life wasn't looking too well. I sighed and tried not to think about it much; I knew I needed some sleep.
I closed my eyes and started to dream...

It was just one of those days.

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Saturday, November 19, 2005

Detective Story: Session # 1 (part 2)

Session # 1: A case gone sour (part 2)

I faced the open room. Light from the windows filtered the dusty air. The axe murderer's room was old and run-down. There was few furniture and any that did exist was mostly broken and torn. The ceiling lamp was broken and the only light came from the windows to the left of me. The exit to the apartment room was to my right. I was guessing I was on at least the third floor of the building. The paint was scraping off the walls. There was a small table in front of me. An axe lay on the table, with a hand holding it tight.

The axe murderer sat in his seat with his eyes closed, and his head against the table. Is he dead? But how?

"Hello there... Tom."

I turned to my right and faced the voice. He was sitting with his hands behind his head, relaxed. His legs were stretched out towards the table. His hat concealed his eyes from me. I could smell the smoke from his cigarette. There was no doubt about it, it was him. No, not "him the axe murderer," but a different him.
"What are you doing here?" I asked.
"Just savin' you, that's all," he stayed relaxed in his chair.
"I didn't need your help, this was my case!" I yelled at him.
"Hey! The reward is open to all the public. Least I would expect is a 'thanks' for saving you."
"Saving me? I had everything under control!"
"Ha, in your dreams."
He smoked his cigarrete while relaxed in his chair. I stood standing there, facing him.
"I'm not letting you take this guy in..." I said.
He opened his mouth to say something, but paused. "Look... I caught him. I'm just taking him in that's all."
Tough luck for me I guess... If I didn't know any better I would've bashed him in the head right there. The police had a bounty on the guy, and anyone who turned him in got the reward. I started my case one week ago, and I wasn't ready to give up all that hard work for nothing.

He sat there in his chair, smoking his cigarette. I stared at him. His trench coat dragged against the wall and reached the floor.

"I'm not letting you leave this room..." I mumbled.
I started to walk toward him.
"Ho ho... wait up there buddy."
I halted in my tracks. He pulled out a gun on me, it was my own magnum.
"Just back off. I'm taking this guy in--it's my bounty." His voice was getting angry.
I stared at his face intently.
"Back up."
I raised my hands and backed up into the corner of the room. He continued to point the gun at me.
"Now... I'm going to get up. You're going to back off and stay over there." He nodded to the corner of the room. "Now I'm just gonna leave now..."
He picked up the murderer, still unconcious, and dragged him out of the room, all while still pointing my gun at me.
"It's nothing personal my man. I just need the cash," he smirked.
"Yeah... we all do," I said with a disgruntled look on my face.
He exited the room and stood right outside the doorway.
"Hey Cadnium!" I yelled to him.
"The least you can do is give me my gun back."
He paused to think about it. "Fine. I'll leave it at the entrance. If I see you move outside of this room before I leave, I'll shoot you dead."
"Fine with me," I said.
I heard him walk down the stairs with the target. Six-hundred bucks for me... all down the drain. I should've took him down, I should've down something. I should've...

...Ah well, that's the past for you.

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Friday, November 18, 2005

Detective Story: Session # 1

Session # 1: A case gone sour

I peered through the keyhole. I couldn't see anything. So... it only works in the movies then. I tried the door knob for the tenth time. It was still locked and it wasn't budging. I rubbed my hand through my hair and took a deep breath. I turned around and faced my enclosure. The closet was empty and dark. The walls were close together, and there was only about twelve square feet on the ground.
I checked my trench coat for anything of use. Pens... pencils... my pocketbook... my P.I. card, but not my magnum. I'd have to get out of here the hard way.
The room was dark and dusty, and I was getting warm with my coat on. The only light came from the bottom of the door. I didn't know how long I'd been in here.
Stuck in a closet; this was my greatest adventure yet.

Suddenly I heard footsteps from the outside room... he's back. That guy, that evil person. The murderer, my captor, my target; that was him on the other side of this door.

It started out as a simple job, but little did I know I would come face to face with him so quickly, and he would knock me out and drag me in here.
I took off my Fedora and breathed slowly. I had to do something--fast. If I didn't get out of here I knew I would be a goner. Nobody knew I was here--the police weren't coming for me... I was on my own.
I heard a screech. I knew that could only be one thing: his axe. The sound of him sharpening the blade. The screechy noise. I could only imagine what he could do with that axe. The axe murderer was about to have another victim, unless I had somethng to say about it.
My hidden pocket knife; I just remembered it. I always kept it but I never used it. Finally I had a chance to whip it out after all this time.
I figured I would pick the lock with my knife, take the guy by surprise, call the police, be the hero, and get the reward. Easy right?

I had a hard time with the lock. My clumsy hands failed me over and over. I could no longer hear my captor in the next room, but that didn't mean he was gone.
I twisted and turned the knife until the lock finally broke open. I figured that I'd been in that room for an hour since I woke up.
I took a deep breath. If the axe murderer was still in the next room, this might be the end of me. I slowly turned the knob on the door. It made a slow creaking noise as I leaned forward on the door. The door creased open and I peeked in the next room. I put on my tough face and prepared for the worst.

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