Babes, Booze and Bullets

[Vercetti21]

Looks like I got behind a bit, but I've just caught up.

 

Awesome chapter, dude. I love how you've got the reader hating O'Leary, right down to the smallest detail, and then turn it around to make the reader feel sorry for him. The way you introduce and develop your characters is so unique and perfected - I could only hope to do that with mine.

 

Anyways, the plot and story is turning out nicely. Can't wait to see how things go down with this Freeman creep.

[Chickstick]

Heh, thanks. I'm off school for a week after this weekend, so I'll have a new chapter up sometime then. I'm finally getting back into writing more than once or twice a week, which is pleasing- school coursework and such is almost done with for the moment.

 

I aim to resume AOD before the end of this month as well- no promises, but I hope to do so as I was really enjoying writing it until I cocked up and deleted it.

[Vercetti21]

I aim to resume AOD before the end of this month

Dude, you must. I was really into that story before everything died out.

[Chickstick]

Five: Kat Graham

 

Bob O’Leary has been dead for six hours. It’s just before seven o’clock in the morning, and I’m tired as hell. Ten hours sleep in the last four days can’t be good for you.

 

Stifling a yawn, I pull my aching muscles out of bed and go to the bathroom. I piss for what seems like an eternity, and start to shave. I cut myself, a large drop of blood splashing onto the grimy sink. I’ll clean it up later.

 

I dress, and make myself some breakfast. Toast; dry as the Sahara. There’s no butter left in the refrigerator, something else I’ve forgotten to get due to the events of the last few days.

 

I’m just about to go out to get a morning paper when Gwen comes home. She looks tired, even more so than she usually does. She greets me with a half-hearted smile and without a word goes through to our bedroom. She’s asleep by the time I get home.

 

After checking the baseball scores (the Central City Zephyrs are sh*t) I drive to work. It’s hot. The sun is blaring down on me from a cloudless sky, burning me in this tin can of a car. I turn the radio on while in a traffic jam. I look around and see a group of young thugs by the side of the road, some wielding baseball bats, others knives. I lock my doors.

 

The news comes on. There were “only” twenty-one definite murders overnight. In this city, that’s a good thing. That fat bastard Commissioner Garrison will say that shows his police force is doing its job. Commissioner Garrison lies a lot.

 

I finally get to work, thirty minutes later than I should have been, and discover that I’m still one of the first to arrive. Gacy and Halliwell are off work today, so that leaves me as the one token good cop in the station.

 

I’ve nothing else to do but paperwork, so I go through some notes relating to a child molester I put away a few months back. Nasty case. This fellow had kidnapped little girls from school playgrounds, and sold them onto the highest bidder, but only after “testing the merchandise” so to speak. Even now, we still haven’t located all the girls. Ten of them were found, with four of them being corpses. There’s still potentially dozens of little kids separated from their families in Central City.

 

The child molester was killed in jail a few days after his trial. He suffocated after some fellow inmates forced him to eat his own sh*t. The guards saw this happening yet let it continue for hours. He had it coming to him.

 

An hour later, some other cop actually pulls his fat ass up out of bed and comes in. It’s Rod Serlton, an ugly tall bastard with a chip on his shoulder the size of Texas. Immigrants, blacks, Jews, Muslims, women- he hates all of them.

 

“There’s a woman here to see you, Ross,” he grunts.

“Who is it?” I ask.

“Why the hell would I know? It’s you she’s here to see, not me. I’ll tell you one thing though,” he leers, “she has got one hell of a pair of tits on her.”

I raise an eyebrow and go to see whom this woman with the nice tits is.

 

I walk through into the lobby, and when I see who’s sitting there, waiting for me, my mouth drops open. My cigarette falls to the floor.

 

Damn. It’s Kat Graham.

Edited March 16, 2008 by Chickstick

[longkissgoodnight]

Awesome!

[Chickstick]

Bloody hell, that was a quick reply. Thanks for following this, man.

[Vercetti21]

Wow, that 21 deaths overnight thing made me realize just how f*cked up Central City is. I like where you're going with all of this, and you've definitely brought out the protagonist's character more as the story progresses. More importantly, through the nasty characters and seemingly unimportant events, you've brought out the city's character a lot more. Great stuff, and I'm eager to see where the story goes from here.

[Chickstick]

More importantly, through the nasty characters and seemingly unimportant events, you've brought out the city's character a lot more.

I'm glad you picked up on that, as that was my intention. Little things like the number of murders overnight, and the child molester eating his own sh*t, just show how bad life in the city is.

 

Thanks.

[Oxidizer]

This is such a fine piece of storytelling, dude, you should be proud. I'm fastly getting into third person[?] stuff, and this is one of top reasons why.

 

Excellent. Just excellent.

[Chickstick]

third person[?] stuff,

First person.

 

Thanks for the feedback, all of it is appreciated.

[Chickstick]

Six: Temptation

 

Gwen calls me three times while I’m out with Kat. I don’t answer any of them.

 

I haven’t seen Katherine for eight years- back when I was still an idealistic kid who thought I could do something good with my life. She was hoping to get into acting at the time, partly because she enjoyed doing it but mostly so she could earn her way out of Central City. Neither of us got what we wanted.

 

It turns out she did get into the movies, but not the types she hoped. For the last six years the paying public have known her as Mandy Klitt, a porno star known amongst the assholes of society from coast to coast.

 

She came back to Central to see me. Things didn’t end well between us. Not well at all, but then walking in on your girlfriend screwing your landlord is never good for a relationship.

 

Looking over at her across the table, I realise just how special she was to me. She said she was pissed on the night she got f*cked by that filthy old bastard, and I wanted to believe her at the time, but I was too upset- too angry to do anything other but tell her to get the hell of my life. Eight years on, I wish I hadn’t been so hasty.

 

She sips her wine and says, “So, Johnny, are you seeing anyone?”

I nod and reply, “Yeah, yeah. Nice little lady. She’s faithful.”

She hears the spite in that last word and looks upset. I regret saying it.

I grab her arm and say, “Damn, I’m sorry, Kat. That was out of order.”

“No, no,” she murmurs, “I’m sure she’s right for you.”

She looks at her watch.

“I’d best be going. Look, Johnny, it’s been great to see you again. Here’s my address while I’m staying in Central. That and my phone number are on the back of the card. See you around.”

She leaves, and I’m left wondering whether I made the right decision all those years ago.

 

I take the quiet route home, down the waterfront. In the fifties it was a gleaming, golden example of what America could do. Now it’s populated by winos, junkies and the occasional rat scurrying along the floor. Like the rest of this city, it is f*cked.

 

I pass an old man, sixty odd years old with a beard down to his waist, passed out on the floor. A piss stain the size of Manhattan dominates his trousers. I wonder whom he is, what made him like this. This city? The city’s inhabitants? Speculation is useless.

 

All the time I’m fiddling with the card Kat gave me. I keep asking myself what the hell I’m doing, wanting to get involved again with a woman who cheated on me. I know the reason why. I love her, now just as much as I always have.

 

What about Gwen? Do I love her? Yes, yes I do. But do I love her enough to give up on Kat for the second time? Do I dare to find the answer?

 

I take the card out of my pocket. 55a 42nd Street. That’s close to here. I’ll walk it.

 

I reach the corner of 41st and 42nd Streets and realise how big the repercussions of this thing could be. I brush the thoughts away and keep going. 53b, 54a, 54b… 55a 42nd Street.

 

It’s an anonymous, squat red brick building, the most common type in Central’s Jewish quarter. Just as I ring the bell, I realise I didn’t pay a visit to Carl Freeman.

 

Edited March 16, 2008 by Chickstick

[longkissgoodnight]

awesome!

[Chickstick]

Thanks a lot for your support, mate.

[Vercetti21]

Wow, Kat adds a whole new layer to the story. Now not only does our protagonist have to deal with the city's struggles and the everyday life of a cop, but this shows he has personal and internal problems, too. Nice. Made John even more realistic and brought out more thickness to the plot.

 

I love this.

[Land Of Confusion]

Wow, Kat adds a whole new layer to the story. Now not only does our protagonist have to deal with the city's struggles and the everyday life of a cop, but this shows he has personal and internal problems, too. Nice. Made John even more realistic and brought out more thickness to the plot.

 

I love this.

Vercetti pretty much summed up what I wanted to say, Nice job Chickstick!

[Chickstick]

Thanks again for the support, and I'm glad you're all enjoying this so far.

[sweetharmony]

wow this is really good. Definetly Sin City based. Is that where you got the name (Booze,Broads,Bullets)

[Chickstick]

I quite honestly hadn't realised there was a Frank Miller title so similar to mine for this. I have of course read the majority of Sin City stories, but had never come across the one you mentioned.

 

Thanks for the comment, by the way.

 

The next chapter should be up sometime this weekend; I haven't had much time over the last couple of days to write it.

[sweetharmony]

lol don't worry. I think it was a collection of his stories, best ones if you will although it doesn't have that yellow bastard in it . And to be honest if you look at the story I'm writing it's basically a copied if cutdown version of Sin City lol. like i said before good work amigo

[Oxidizer]

Only ever heard of Sin City here, so this is all completely new to me, which is good. Just like the latest chapter you posted - this is wicked!

[Chickstick]

Thanks for the feedback, Oxi, and everyone. The next chapter will be up some time tomorrow, if all goes to plan.

[Chickstick]

Seven: Sex

 

It’s the morning after, and I’ve only just realised what it is I’ve done. I try to remember the details, but nothing comes. We had far too much to drink last night. I pull myself up and groan, rubbing my aching head. I stare through tired eyes at the clothes hurriedly dumped on the floor. We were at it like rabbits last night. The thought raises a smile and I do my best to push it away, to frown. I fail.

 

I stretch and get dressed, still a little woozy. It takes me three attempts to get my shoes on properly, and after I finally do it, I look up to see Kat standing in the doorway, naked but for a pair of tight (almost as tight as my trousers are now getting) silk panties, holding a champagne glass. Her hair is wild, all over the place after the events of last night. It makes her look even better.

 

She drinks the rest of the champagne with that refined, feminine motion I used to love. Her eyes slide half shut, and her head tilts back slightly, the minute motion thrusting her pert breasts forward ever so slightly, mocking me, inviting me. I want her.

 

She places the glass down, her lipstick smeared all over the glass. She winks; no words are needed. We both want it, and want each other. She’s on me within a second, her tongue probing within my mouth, her breasts moving against my chest, her hands feeling, stroking, down below. She moans, a deep, low sound that makes my heart beat a little faster.

 

She moves her hands upwards and slowly, deliberately, unbuttons my sweat-soaked shirt. She pulls it off quickly and makes a move towards my belt. It’s off after thirty seconds. She sucks the root, and this time it’s me who moans. With the sound, she does it quicker, and longer. Christ, I haven’t done it this well with Gwen for months, maybe even years.

 

It may be the remains of the alcohol which is in my system, but I don’t even think to answer the phone when Gwen calls again, sounding both worried and a little pissed off, to tell me that another whore’s been murdered and that Halliwell wants me in immediately. I don’t answer, so I won’t know this for a few hours yet.

 

As soon as the phone has stopped ringing, I’m f*cking her properly, and I’m f*cking her good. She shrieks with delight, her face a contorted mix of enjoyment and desire. I just have a grin on my face.

 

We do it three more times before it goes down. Nothing is said between us. She pulls her panties back on and goes through to pour herself another glass of champagne. I lay back on the bed, exhausted but happy, and light another cigarette.

 

I sober up a little, and think about what I’m going to do next. Should I tell Gwen? Would she be better off not knowing? Hell, maybe there’s even space for two women in my life. I love them both dearly, but my love for Kat has always been one more of lust, just as hers is for me. I smoke, and I think.

 

Somewhere in the city, another young woman is brutally killed. Her murder is slow and painful, and when death finally comes it is a relief.

 

By the time I get myself over to the station and have faced a dressing down from Halliwell, three more women will have been killed. The city will have gained its latest serial killer.

 

The Axeman’s time will begin.

Edited March 16, 2008 by Chickstick

[Vercetti21]

Cool. Not much to say about this chapter, other than that. You definitely developed John and Kat's relationship more, hence the title, and I like the foreshadowing of the serial killer at the end.

[Oxidizer]

Have I mentioned how awesome this is?

 

Sex and death always go hand-in-hand, so it goes without saying that I liked this chapter very much. Keep it up! So to speak

 

[Chickstick]

Thanks. I'm glad you liked it. I wanted to do something a little different for that chapter, and it seems to have worked- I had the sinking feeling that it would go down like a lead balloon.

[Oxidizer]

It was kind of a welcomed break from the completely bleak stuff, so yeah, I really liked it, and it makes the character of Johnny[?] more human by intergrating this complex little side story of a love/lust life.

 

Though I'd be a liar if I said I wasn't looking forward to some more murders. Rip them whores up.

[Chickstick]

the character of Johnny[?]

 

 

John, Johnny, Ross... whatever.

 

I'm glad you liked it, and I agree that it made a nice little break from the depressive feeling of the previous chapters. And don't worry, I'm about to get into the part where I "rip them whores up".

[-/TNT\-]

This could be a sequel to Sin City. This is a great story, one of the few that I liked and will continue reading. Keep it up mate.

[longkissgoodnight]

Awesome chapter!

[Chickstick]

Cheers, TNT. Good to see some more people following along, and thanks as always, longkissgoodnight, for the kind words.

 

I'm going through the next couple of chapters as I write this, so the next part should be up in the next couple of days.