Tuesday, January 24, 2006

The Exchange

The Exchange:

The sewer is a rotten and filthy place for a meeting. Especially when you have to wait there for several hours. Standing on the concrete sidewalk still won't save you from being splashed by the murky, gutty waters.
It's dark underground and only a few lights are hooked to the ceiling. I've got a briefcase in my hand and I'm holding it firmly. There's supposed to be one-hundred thousand credits inside, but it's empty.

It's cold... I can see my breath and my trench coat barely keeps in my warmth. My hair is messy and slides down my forehead. I've been standing by that brick wall for about two hours now, waiting...

I can hear the sounds of the sewage being poured out of the giant drainpipe. The disgusting liquid passes by and floats along. The water is dark green and naseauting. I check my digital wristband. My contact should've been here hours ago, but I wasn't ready to leave yet.

Suddenly I turn and see a figure in the distance. He is tall, muscular and appears to be well armed. He passes in and out of the few dim lights and I can barely make out his face. Tap-tap-tap his footsteps go...

"Are you Grun?" I ask as he approaches.
The closer he gets, the more I realize just how much of a giant he is.
His voice is deep and gruntled and reminds me of a pig. "That's me." He looks to be twice my size, in width and height. He is wearing some kind of strange armor and street clothes.
He stares down on me. "Do you got the money?" He asks.
I show him the briefcase, keeping one hand in my pocket at all times.
I look straight in his eyes. "One-hundred thousand right?"
"...That's right," he replies.
He's also holding a briefcase of his own.
"You got my stuff?" I ask him.
"Right here." His gruntled voice still reminds me of a pig. He shows me his briefcase.
I throw him my case and he prepares to open it. He keeps his eyes on me, being as cautious as possible...

End of Part 1
Note: This story is NOT associated with Kendric, Tom Shaster, or anything else. It is a new story in a new world and has nothing to do with the previous stories.

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Tuesday, January 03, 2006

Tom Shaster ... 1891 - 1923

So this is what if feels like to be dead.

...Wow. The bullet hurt, alot; right into the chest; bang. One minute I'm sleeping in my apartment, the next I'm dead in the rain. The rain lands with a hard splash on my face. If I could feel, I know it would be irritating and cold. It's still dark out. Maybe if I could still see I would watch the sunrise. If I could still think, I'd probably think about getting up and killing that no good person for what he did to me. I knew I recognized his voice...

...Wait a second.
...So I'm not dead after all.

The rain is cold. And irritating.

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