Tales Of Dim Alderney

[Rhoda]

 

TALES OF DIM ALDERNEY

The Westdyke Connection

 

Chapter 1

The First Day For The Rest Of His Life

 

Dominic Hurley was what Alderney residents would call “one of those people”. Having come from a large family, he knew what it was like to struggle, particularly when it came to making ends meet. With drug dealers and criminals for role models and no apparent father figure, Dominic soon learned the tricks of their trade; vehicle theft at the age of fourteen, drug running at the age of seventeen. In his years in action, he saw money come and go, though hardly any of it remained in his pockets. Instead, Dominic’s money was either seen festering in his liver or swimming in his lungs.

While he was seen as a dangerous man by anyone’s standards, Dominic was merely a misanthropist. Society had given him nothing, so it was only fair to him that he gave nothing back. Living in a small, mediocre apartment above Bob’s Liquor Store in Westdyke, Dominic was content with his career and his income. With no girlfriend, no phone line and no promotion prospect. While this may have been, this doesn’t say that his line of work was free of risk and peril.

 

The clock beeps spelt noon and Dominic eyes were instantly dilated at the sight of natural light that penetrated his window. The harsh rays caused Dominic to roar in frustration that another day had already come when all he wanted to do was sleep. Still, no rest for the wicked. With a swipe, Dominic’s umpteenth alarm clock for that month went soaring into a nearby wall as he scratched his shaven head, yawning ferociously. Today was the day that Dominic had to sell five thousand dollars worth of weed to what he would label a business junkie; an addict with more money than sense, and therefore Dominic’s favourite kind of custom.

After a quick shower and breakfast, his intercom let out a feeble buzz. Yawning once again, he pressed a finger against the button and answered it without even listening.

“Come up, just getting ready now,” Dominic muttered, “bring your films.”

Several seconds later, a rapid succession of knocks made Dominic drop his socks and with a quick loosening of the chain, the door creaked open. In walked in a man with a full head of dreadlocked hair and a beard to match, scratching his stomach with one hand and carrying several pirated DVDs in the other.

“Dominiiiiiiic…” said the man, still scratching himself, “what’s happening, mon amigo?”

“Aside from your sh*te Spanish impression? Nothing, Mince.”

Mince was a moderately built man with more dreadlocks than muscle mass. Real name Matt, he was affectionately dubbed Mince after a famous deal in an abandoned meat packing plant went awry, and he made mincemeat of anyone who tried to get in between him and the truck of cocaine that sat idly outside, ready for the fuzz to spot. However, you wouldn’t think so looking at him, a man who was wearing black jeans, a Tuff Gong Radio T Shirt and a pair of torn sneakers.

“Funny f*cker,” he cooed, before quickly changing the subject, “listen, I’ve got these films for you, sh*t hot, the bitches are on fire, I kid you not man.”

“That good?” Dominic said, pulling on his socks, “s’in ‘em then?”

“Okay, get this!” Mince replied excitedly, “this tasty bitch gets the ol’ earphone treatment, double glazing in each ear by two dudes hung like horses, I kid you not my friend. Real high grade.”

Dominic made a face of approval, grabbing his gun and tucking it safely in the front of his pants.

“Let’s bounce, this deal can pay for the breakfast you owe me from last week, Mince.”

Mince bowed his head in mock sadness, before slamming the door behind him and heading for the street.

 

Ten minutes later and the discussion of porn was still going strong, led by Mince reciting a favourite of his in such graphic detail that Dominic rolled down the window of his car and turned his radio as loud as it would go without exploding.

“… so then, this bitch with massive tits just uses these guy’s cocks as like a pair of skiing… stick things, it’s awesome man.”

 

“I’m sure,” Dominic muttered, taking long draws on his cigarette and taking the empty corners of Alderney wide, “certainly looks like you spend your days off productively.”

“Like you’re any better?”

“I never said I was, Mince…”

 

One in the afternoon and the deal was in full swing. As Mince sat gingerly on the car puffing away on a cigarette and reading a packet of pornographic playing cards, Dominic was apprehensively showing off the merchandise to the buyer, who hid behind a cliché Hawaiian shirt, a large thatched hat and a pair of oversized sunglasses.

“Nice… real nice,” purred the buyer, wafting a hand up to his nose and sniffing softly, “they did say you were the best supplier, I can certainly smell their confidence in you.”

“Uh, thanks,” Dominic replied, one eye cocked, “can we just do this? I don’t like hanging around in stereotypical alleyways in the rough parts of Alderney.”

The buyer simply smiled and snapped his fingers, where a short, balding man scurried up with a beaten, leather suitcase. With a click, it opened and Mince was the first to look, despite being several metres away. With a whistle, Dominic slowly nodded his head as Mince began to open a packet of nuts.

“Happy?” sniffed the buyer, evidently as anxious as Dominic.

“Very.”

It was the perfect deal, which of course, didn’t go to plan. With a harsh blast of the sirens, Mince choked, as he saw a police car pull up inches behind Dominic’s car, sealing them in the alleyway. Mince and Dominic didn’t waste anytime and clutched the briefcase of money, running as fast as they can to their only available exit; a chain-link fence topped with barbed wire. The duo ignored the cries of the buyer and his accomplice, who were swamped by a handful of police officers. The sound of a jaw cracking masked the cries of pain from the mouth of Mince, who had caught his leg on the rusty barbed wire. With a harsh tug from Dominic, Mince yelped once more as blood trickled down his pant leg.

 

Emerging once more in the relative safety of the streets of Alderney, the pair began to sweat with the adrenaline of nearly becoming ornaments in the back of a police car. Mince fought the pain in his leg but couldn’t help hobbling. After five solid minutes of fleeing sirens, the two slammed their backs against a wooden fence, their breath heavy.

“What the f*ck, man… sh*t.”

Mince said nothing and instead tore away at his pant leg, desperate to clot his wound which had now begun to bleed heavily. Swallowing hard, Dominic shut his eyes tight, fighting to keep calm. Just as their panic levels returned to normal, a police car swung round the corner at a frightening speed, its sirens off. With a scream, Dominic thrust the briefcase in Mince’s chest and pushed him down the street, again fleeing the police.

Turning into the docks, Dominic and Mince took a winding route in and out of the freight containers. Neither one of them looked back as they neared the water’s edge. Dominic’s stomach rose to his throat when he realised there were once again sirens, and they had nowhere to go. The all familiar crackle of a speaker rang out through the sea air; “put down your weapons and stand with your arms out”. Dominic did so, admitting defeat. Kicking his gun into the water and taking a worried glance at Mince, who was evidently more scared, Dominic exhaled in frustration. This was the first day of the rest of their lives.

Edited November 27, 2008 by Masterkraft

[Ronmar The Only]

I believe half a sentence was lost in translation at the end of the first paragraph. Also, I believe that you should've used a colon instead of a semicolon when discussing the tricks of the trade that Dom learned in the first paragraph.

 

Interesting beginning.

[Rhoda]

While the chapter title was bastardized somewhat, the focus is more on Dominic as you'll see later on, though it may have made more sense sticking to the quoted line. Thanks Ronmar.

[Oxidizer]

Is that sexy bastard Dominic gonna go to jail? I'm not sure how I think of that. I'd hate for him to be thrown into lock-up, but at the same time... think of all the homoeroticism.

 

Why must you torture me so?!

[Lochie_old]

This is gonna be interesting, in the beginning it took a while to get into it but the ending did it for me,

[Rhoda]

Chapter 2

Miller

 

It seemed as though Dominic had been drifting in and out of consciousness for hours, which even then was realistic. Remembering nothing but movement and darkness, Dominic had began to wonder if he was dreaming or living the sheer anxiety he was feeling. This feeling of movement seemed to never end, and when it did, Dominic took comfort in the soft seat he was sat on. He was still surrounded by darkness, and was sure that pure terror would follow, but for now there was only bliss and nothing less. Everything became a harsh reality as soon as he heard the sound of a car door, and felt the bag over his head rush past his ears. With a sharp intake of breath, Dominic narrowed his eyes, eager to keep the daylight out of his face. His efforts were in vain however, and instead examined his surroundings.

 

The first he noticed were the tighter than necessary handcuffs bound round his wrists, and even then he took delight in the cold metal exterior; comforting to the touch. The second immediate thing he paid attention to, which was quite odd in itself, was the open car door next to him where his captor had removed the bag from over his head. Eyes darting around the car, Dominic inched towards the edge of the seat and peered out of the car. From what he could see he was in Broker, the street signs told him that much. With a silent shuffle, Dominic edged further and further towards freedom, and it was only when he heard footsteps that he stopped.

 

"You're going nowhere, friend."

Dominic's head spun like a top, desperate to find the source of the gravelly voice that had made him jump and nearly hit his head on the roof of the car.

"Over here!" came the voice again, patronising in it's tone.

Dominic needed no more clues and his eyes were instantly glued on the police officer on the other side, his head poking inquistively through the open window where Dominic had once sat.

"Looks like you have been busy. We've been looking for you for a while... me even more so."

Dominic said nothing, and instead stared intently at the man in the hope he would strike some fear in his eyes. Surely if the officer knew as much Dominic assumed, he would already be threatened even being within 6 feet of him? For a few seconds there was nothing but silence as Dominic fought his cuffs, once again an effort in vain.

"Your friend's safe, Dom... well..."

The officer cast a look over his shoulder at the bound and gagged Mince on a workbench behind him and sighed, "he's sort of safe anyway."

"What have you done?" Dominic spat.

"Nothing... yet," the officer cooed, "though if you fail to cooperate I'll be forced to hurt him and hurt you. Badly."

The officer's grimace was enough to get Dominic to stop struggling.

"What do you want from me? I've no source of income that you'd feel good accepting, that's for sure."

"Come off it, Dom," the officer sighed again, sitting on the rear of the car and lighting a cigarette, "I like a bit of blow myself."

Dominic said nothing, his primary argument shot down in flames.

"So, I'll cut right to it Dom, I have less patience than you do, though you wouldn't think so. I have some work for you."

"Work?" Dominic scoffed, spitting out of the window, "I have work, that is unless you're sending me down."

The officer seemed to freeze in the middle of his cigarette, and without warning through it at Mince, who didn't flinch. Mince's eyes followed the officer's movements with more intent and anger than Dominic's.

"This is work that I'll get fired for, without a doubt," finally came a reply, "Lowlife scum... just like you!"

Dominic again said nothing, so the officer sniffed and carried on.

"Get this done, and you and your friend can walk. Do not run, do not hide. We will find you."

"Who's we, bigshot?" Dominic retorted, "thought this was a f*cking personal battle?"

"Oh it is, but you're wanted men, boys! The whole of Liberty City's at my beck and call. I could have you locked up right now, but I'm all for a fair fight."

Dominic shook his head, his voice considerably quiet.

"Alright, look... I don't give a f*ck what happens to me, but let Mince go. The most hardcore thing he's gotten himself involved in was a porn shoot. Just... please."

The officer pursed his lips and took a sharp breath in, eyes narrow, mockingly considering Dominic's proposal.

"No deal. He'll be free, along with you, when you do what I say. Until then, he stays with me."

 

Dominic slowly got out of the car and made his way towards the officer, who was considerably taller than he was. Bearing this is mind, Dominic thought himself wise that he didn't run from him.

"Alright... what do you want? I'll go now, get it over with."

"That's my boy!" the officer clapped loudly, scaring a gathering of pigeons which had congregated on a nearby scaffolding to watch the drama, "I've emailed you. Go to the internet cafe in town, have a look."

Dominic looked bewildered, even now, that the officer was letting him go and was actually advising he visit an internet cafe for work.

"Don't even try running for help, Dom," the cop said, sternly, "else you'll have your friend's death on your conscience."

"I'm going, look... I'm going, just... don't hurt him."

In minutes Dominic's handcuffs were removed, leaving thick red bands around his wrists. The officer approached Mince, who was still watching the most unusual partnership in Liberty City, more unusual than the infamous duo of an ex-mob boss and a European immigrant.

Dominic left the scene, hobbling down the street towards the internet cafe where his "get out of jail free card" sat waiting for him and Mince. It was only when Dominic was gone that the officer turned to Mince and smiled warmly.

"You know who I am? Hmmm?" removing Mince's gag. Even upon it's removal, Mince said nothing.

"I don't care if you do or you don't, boy... because I'm going to tell you."

Without a word of warning, the officer delivered a hard kick to Mince's midsection. Howling in pain, Mince rolled clumsily off the workbench, landing on the floor with a thud. A bewildered Mince looked on in horror and pain as the officer pulled down his pants at half-mast, doing the same to him.

"I..."

The officer moved closer.

"Am..."

He lined up.

"Officer..."

He wet his entry.

"Miller."

He thrust hard, the howls of Mince echoing through-out Hove Beach.

Edited November 28, 2008 by Masterkraft

[Oxidizer]

One, I didn't see the Liberty City thing coming at all! Is this a fanfic? 'Cause good twist, intended or otherwise. And two, WTF! Is Officer Miller buggering Mince (lulz that name sounds so wrong now)?

 

Either way, excellent job, Craig. Really awesome stuff.

[Chickstick]

"He wet his entry", great sentence. Good writing so far as well, and I believe the first fanfic you've posted? I like it; takes a now familiar location and looks like its going to do something different with it.

[Warplay3r]

MASTERKRAFT!!! .

 

Very glad to see your writing a new story. And uh..a fanfic. Don't believe I've seen you write one of those. Aah well, everyone needs a change now and again. Anywho, I've read the first two chapters of this story and I'm saying it is shaping up very nicely. I must say, one of my favorite bits was when Officer Miller 'wet' Mince. I found that bit funny, well, sorta. . But yeah, this story looks extremely promising and I wish to see it through to the end.

 

I'll be watching...

[sam33]

I'm not very good at giving feedback and criticism so I'll basically get straight to the point.

 

I really like your story, it had me hooked and left me wanting more which is always a good thing and your characters seemed really alive. Like you really fleshed them out and showed what made them tick. Good job.

 

Edit: in your first chapter you put custom instead of customer. Not a big mistake but i thought you'd want to iron it out .

Edited December 4, 2008 by sam33

[The Unvirginiser]

I liked it Craig, it's nice to see a GTA based narrative piece done with such class.

 

 

Instead, Dominic’s money was either seen festering in his liver or swimming in his lungs.

 

I loved that sentence, fantastic imagery.

 

 

The clock beeps spelt noon and Dominic eyes were instantly dilated at the sight of natural light that penetrated his window. The harsh rays caused Dominic to roar in frustration that another day had already come when all he wanted to do was sleep. Still, no rest for the wicked. With a swipe, Dominic’s umpteenth alarm clock for that month went soaring into a nearby wall as he scratched his shaven head, yawning ferociously. Today was the day that Dominic had to sell five thousand dollars worth of weed to what he would label a business junkie; an addict with more money than sense, and therefore Dominic’s favourite kind of custom.

 

The word Domonic is used wayyyy too much there. Try using alternative words, the repetition slowed down the piece a lot.

Otherwise, good, I'll stay tuned for the next chapter.