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| Chapter 1: A Gangster's Paradise | |
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| Topic Started: Aug 30 2016, 02:00 AM (158 Views) | |
| Jeice | Aug 30 2016, 02:00 AM Post #1 |
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Theme Music "Ay what up dawg," Dixon called, walking up to a couple of guys leaning against a black Charger with the bass pumping. He dapped the first guy, a skinny dude named Wyatt. "Big Moe, what's good homie?" The second guy, built like a Pro-Bowl offensive lineman, reached out and gave Dixon some skin. "So what's up, we doin this shit or what?" Big Moe looked over at Wyatt and chuckled. "Hell yeah nigga, you know we doin it. Those punk asses won't know what hit they bitch asses." Wyatt laughed and checked his cell phone for the time. "Shit niggas we better hit it, they gon be comin through any minute now." The three of them piled into the car with Dixon driving. He was the best of the trio, considering how often he raced his Mustang in local street events. While Dixon started the car Big Moe pulled two AK-47's out of a bag in the backseat and passed one forward to Wyatt. Checking to make sure the guns were ready to go, they all said a quick prayer and then kept their eyes peeled on a beat up old building a couple blocks down. The building was a safe house for a local rival gang to their own Moe's. After what seemed like forever, Wyatt finally sat up straight and pointed. "There goes those niggas now," he said, gripping his gun tighter. Ahead there were six guys leaving the building together and standing around outside on the sidewalk talking. "Dumbasses aint even paying attention," he said with a grin, putting the barrel of the gun just below the window. Big Moe got his gun ready too while Dixon rolled the windows down. "Aight, let's ice these bitches," Dixon said, slamming the car into first and dumping the clutch. Putting the gas pedal to the floor the car jolted forward and barreled down the street towards the group. When it was all but too-late the six guys looked up and saw Big Moe and Wyatt aiming their guns straight at them. A couple tried to run while the rest went for their own guns in the waist bands. Before they could get more than a shot or two off the couple in the car rained complete hell down on them, the bullets tearing through the group like a hot knife through butter. Like lambs to the slaughter Dixon saw some of their targets drop to the ground while those still standing kept shooting at the car as it sped away. The back window blew out just moments before he threw the Charger hard around a corner and disappeared behind a building, the powerful V8 engine roaring as it powered the car away from the crime scene at a dangerous pace. As he drove he looked over at Wyatt. “You good nigga?” “Yeah man, fo sho. How bout you, Big?” he asked, scanning the roads ahead for any police. Bystanders probably would’ve called the cops after seeing or hearing the gunshots, but no doubt both parties would be long gone before the fuzz showed up. “Nigga I said are you good?” Wyatt demanded, turning to look at Big Moe. “Oh fuck!” “What, what is it?!” Dixon yelled, angling the rearview mirror so he could see the back seat. What he saw made his heart drop. Big Moe was slumped over in the seat, a hole in the back side of his head and blood pouring all over the black leather. “Oh shit...” he muttered. While Dixon knew the deal, Wyatt absolutely lost his shit, diving into the backseat and craddling his friend’s head. “Hey man... wake up... we got ‘em Big,” he struggled through gasps. His emotions wrecked, he got angry. “Nigga I said get up! Fuck! We might have to run if the 5-0 catch us! Get yo big ass up!” “Wyatt... leave it. He’s gone,” Dixon said through clenched teeth, weaving through traffic. He was quiet but inside he was boiling. “Listen, we gotta get those niggas. We can’t let them do this, you feel me dawg?” he asked, looking at Wyatt in the mirror. Feeling calmed by his friend, Wyatt stroked Big’s head. “Yeah... yeah man, you right.” “Man fuck that in yo feelings shit bitch, now aint the time. Big’s gone but we aint. We gotta get them bitches!” he shouted. Wyatt looked a little stronger now. “Fuck you right, hell yeah we gone smoke those niggas. Let’s do this shit, nigga!” he shouted back before jumping back in the front seat with both of the AKs. Dixon pulled his Glock out of his waistband and stuck it in the drink holder. “I got mine nigga.” On the streets, this is how loss was handled. One group took something from another, and for revenge the second group took something from the first, sometimes losing again in the process. It was a never-ending struggle that left many young men dead and families destroyed. Everyone knew it was pointless, but it was all they ever knew and all they ever did. Everyone wanted change, but no one wanted to change. As he turned the car around and sped back to the other gang’s hideout, Dixon knew nothing good could come of it. For what he was planning, he and Wyatt both would probably die and nothing would change. He didn’t really care though, Big Moe was his best friend and if he was dead, Dixon would stop at nothing to get revenge or get peace. If that meant death to him to, then that was what it would be. Words: 931 |
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| Jeice | Aug 30 2016, 02:01 AM Post #2 |
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When he turned onto the street where the safe house had been, Dixon saw that the police still hadn’t arrived, but the guys they’d shot at were inside, including whoever they’d hit. Gritting his teeth he put the pedal to the floor. “Hold up nigga, what are you doin?” Wyatt asked, grabbing another he could to brace himself. “Shut up, we done nigga, but we takin as many of them as we can before we get got,” he said back, steering the car towards the building’s front door. Quickly he clipped his seatbelt and braced himself. “Oh fuck!” Wyatt screamed, moments before the car slammed into the building, shaking all 3 floors of it and driving straight through the wall into the first floor. When the car hit Dixon’s head hit the steering wheel, making everything go dark. It all happened so fast that he barely noticed the car was stopped when he looked up. There was too much dust all around to see, and he could smell gasoline leaking somewhere. Half his vision seemed to be through some kind of red glasses so he reached to his eye and found it sticking wet. When he pulled it back he realized it was blood, so he must be bleeding into his eye. Wiping it away he looked over to the seat next to him and saw that Wyatt wasn’t there. “The fuck?” He must have been thrown from the car. The dust was starting to settle now so Dixon knew he had to move so he unclipped his seatbelt and grabbed the gun that had miraculously stayed in the cup holder. As he moved to get out of the car he groaned from the pain, something must have been broken, but through the pain he managed to get the door open. When he went to get out he dropped a couple of feet to the ground, landing flat on his back and driving the wind out of him. The car must have driven on top of something. Slowly he regained his breath and managed to get to his feet, now he had a few feet of visibility but saw nothing but the car and rubble. He knew when he could see that meant anyone else around could too, and they were all enemies, so he looked for some cover and managed to find a wall that was half-standing so he ducked behind it and waited. After a couple minutes he looked up and could see most of the room. There were three guys standing around the car with guns out, but he didn’t see Wyatt. A couple of bodies were half under the rumble and the car but they were probably dead for sure. He scanned around for Wyatt but suddenly one of the guys turned and saw him. He just managed to duck again when a bullet hit the top of the wall, throwing splinters all over him. “Fuck!” Looking for an escape, Dixon realized he was cornered. “Damn...” he whispered. Is this how he goes? What the hell was he thinking crashing the car into the building like this? And where was Wyatt? “Man, fuck it,” he muttered, moving to stand up. Might as well go down shooting rather than hiding. What he saw stunned him. Wyatt was standing by the car, his gun smoking in his hand, with the three guys that had been gunning at him on the ground dead. “The fuck? Damn nigga!” he said, running over to his friend. “Man, you crazy as fuck driving into the building like that,” Wyatt said to him, picking up one of the dead guy’s guns. “But them niggas didn’t know what hit ‘em so I guess we good. Let’s go upstairs,” he said, tossing another gun to Dixon before taking off towards the stair case in the back. “Wait homie,” Dixon yelled back. Wyatt turned back and looked at him impatiently. “Let’s be smart hoe, look!” He motioned at the car and the gasoline still spilling out of it’s punctured gas tank. A smile spread across Wyatt’s face as realization dawned on him. “Yeah, let’s burn this bitch down, aight!” The two ran back over to the now enlarged entrance and stood on the sidewalk. They could hear sirens in the distance but they didn’t care right then. “You want to, or me?” Dixon asked. “You take it bruh,” Wyatt said, looking up at the next two floors. No one was at the windows but they were probably all waiting somewhere for the pair to come up the stairs. “Bye bye, niggas!” Dixon held his Glock up and aimed for the pool of gas around the car. It was mixing with the blood but there was plenty of gas for the job. Always having been a good shot, when he pulled the trigger the bullet found it’s target. Flames jumped all around, taking hold of the splintered wood and spreading across the floor rapidly. Soon it was climbing the walls and within a minute there was an intense inferno burning on the first floor. Dixon watched the flames reach the stairs and begin to climb them to the next floor, but it didn’t matter. In a building that old the floor was going to cave within minutes and the third floor would soon follow. “Aight let’s get out of here!” Dixon yelled, turning with Wyatt to run away from the blaze. As they turned the corner so did a lime green Caddilac sitting on outrageous rims. Dixon made eye contact with a guy in the backseat while they passed each other but the car kept going. “Fuck man we gotta get! They gone come back!” As he said it he heard the tires screech on the pavement. The driver must have seen the building on fire and knew the two of them caused it. Any second they would turn the corner and run him and Wyatt down like nothing. “This way!” With expertise he flipped his body up and over a chain link fence with Wyatt right behind him. They hit the ground and took off down the alley way. Up ahead Dixon saw a fire escape but before the reached it he had a crash and looked back to see the Caddy flying through the fence and towards him. “Up!” he yelled, taking off up the ladder almost two rungs at a time. His friend was close behind them and just as they started up the steps from the first platform a bullet hit the hand rail right where he was about to put his hand. Dixon stole a quick glance down and saw two guys shooting up at them and two more going up the ladder. “Fuck!” he yelled, speeding up even more and praying to whatever God there may be that he didn’t trip. If he did, he and Wyatt were done. As the two guys climbing got closer the gunshots stopped because the two on the ground didn’t want to hit their own guys so instead they took the car around the block to the other side of the building. The building was about five stories and soon he and Wyatt were at the top. “Shit!” yelled Wyatt when they got there, because there was no other buildings close to the same height within jumping range and no cover on top of the building. They’d dropped their guns when they went to climb the ladder so they were trapped. Not knowing what to do they ran to the opposite side of the building and looked around for another fire escape, but there was none. “Shit man, we’re fucked!” Wyatt yelled as they saw their pursuers reach the roof too. Instantly the guys were shooting at them but the building was pretty big so they weren’t even close to their marks, but they were running closer. Any second they’d be close enough for an accurate shot. “We gotta jump!” Dixon shouted, looking behind him. The building was pretty far down, but nothing they couldn’t survive if they landed it right. Besides, they were definitely dead if they stayed. Thirty foot drop or bullet to the head. It was easy. Just as he made his decision he heard a low thump and looked over to see Wyatt off balance, blood spraying from his chest. His eyes were big and his hand was reachng towards Dixon. “No!” he screamed, diving for his friend’s hand but all he caught was air and Wyatt disappeared over the side. The last thing he saw of him was the fear in his eyes. “Fuck fuck fuck!” he screamed, jumping back up. It was now or never. Without even looking down he took a couple steps back and then ran and jumped. For a moment it seemed like he was just going to hang in the air. The absurd side of his brain told him he’d be a sitting duck in the air like this but reality came back hard as the roof of the building met him. He only had a moment to realize he’d just jumped onto the same building he’d set on fire before his feet hit the wood. Without even putting up a fight the roof gave under his weight, weakened by the fire raging beneath it and Dixon found himself staring into the center of an intense inferno. Time seemed to pause in those last seconds, and as it did he thought he saw a face in the flames, spreading across the entire floor. It was a like a wicked smile and the eyes, just dark circles, seemed to look into his soul. Suddenly instead of hitting the ground everything went black. Words: 1616/2547 |
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| Jeice | Aug 30 2016, 02:03 AM Post #3 |
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Dixon woke up with a start and was blinded by the whiteness of his surroundings. He grabbed at his body in a fit but suddenly hands forced his arms down by his sides. As his vision cleared he realized he was in a hospital and there was a nurse next to him. She was talking, he noticed. ”- you feeling?” she asked. “Any pain, any headache?” “Uh...” he replied, searching his body for another that hurt. Amazingly, nothing did. “No... no I’m fine I think,” he replied. With a cheerful smile, the nurse, a young white girl probably in her early twenties went towards the door. “I’ll get the doctor then, you are quite famous around here.” When she was gone Dixon immediately sat up. What the fuck was going on? The last thing he remembered he was about to land in the center of a building he’d set on fire. He should be dead... maybe he was. Then he remembered, “That face... was it real? It seemed like it was looking into my soul. What if it was? Could it have something to do with me being alive?” Suddenly intense pain arced through his body, from his spine outwards in all directions, causing him to clench him tight and writhe in pain. He gasped out loud and fell to the ground, rolling around feebly. Through his exasperated gasps he heard the door open and foot steps as the doctor ran to his side but when the man’s face came into view he was stunned to see it was not a doctor, but Wyatt. “Nigga we got to get out of here! Quit being a little bitch and get up! Big Moe is outside with the car!” he yelled pulling Dixon to his feet. Although the pain was still intense it seemed to fade enough to let him stand, so Dixon let his friend help him up and leaned against the bed, stealing a glance at the door and looking back at Wyatt incredilously. “How are you alive?!” he gasped. “Nigga what are you talking about? Come on, we out!” he yelled hysterically. Before Dixon could stop him he ran over to the window and threw it open. “Come on I’ll meet you down there!” “Wha- No!” he yelled but Wyatt had already jumped. “What the fuck!” he screamed and stumbled over to the window. When he looked down he saw he was only on the second floor and Wyatt was standing just a dozen yards away by Dixon’s black Mustang. Big Moe was in the driver’s seat looking at his watch impatiently. “Let’s go, nigga!” he yelled, revving the engine. Absolutely flabbergasted, Dixon put one foot on the window sill to jump. A loud noise cut through his head and the window sill by his hand exploded, sending debris against the side of his face. He looked back to see one of the gangbangers from the roof standing at the door with a gun pointed towards him. “You ain’t goin no where, bitch!” the guy yelled. As quickly as he could Dixon jumped, but even as he did so the ground seemed to stretch further away from him. Instead of a 15 foot drop it turned into what looked like a thousand. All the same the ground rushed up to meet him faster than it seemed it should. With his hands held out uselessly to break his fall it was all Dixon could do to wonder what the fuck was happening. Then the world went black, like when he crashed into the building and hit his head on the steering wheel. This time it the lights didn’t come back on in a few seconds though, and neither did he hit the ground and die. Even the wind he felt while falling was gone, which meant he must not be falling anymore. Dixon looked around but couldn’t see anything but his own body, couldn’t even feel the ground beneath his feet. A face loomed in the darkness in what he imagined was the sky. He knew it from somewhere. “The fire! That’s the same face!” he shouted, though he didn’t hear his own words as he expected. He wasn’t mute, the sound left his mouth but after that it just disappeared. It was unnerving, almost as much as the face itself. To his dismay he felt weak, as if his very life force were being drained. He realized to his own horror that it must be the face, somehow taking his life from him. “What do you want?!” the man screamed at the face. It didn’t answer, but instead the blackness around it faded away and in it’s wake materialized a head. Rather than a simple black circle for eyes and a line for a mouth the details appeared and to his best guess Dixon found himself looking into the eyes of a great giant demon. His skin was red and his irises red as well although where the eyeball should have been white it was black. “Hello there, Dixon,” it replied with a long, toothy grin. It’s voice was sinister, and dripping with menace. It seemed not to come through Dixon’s ears, but instead spoke in his mind, although the mouth moved as if it had actually spoken. The sensation was wild and left the man speechless. “Come now, won’t you be courteous? I have, after all, saved your life. The least you can do is thank me.” Words: 909/3,456 |
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| Jeice | Aug 30 2016, 04:35 AM Post #4 |
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Staring up at the face, Dixon was chilled to the bone. Speechless, all he could do is gawk at the vast demon. “No?” it said. “Fine then, I’ll do the talking.” The face vanished, replaced by blackness but then it appeared before Dixon, this time attached to a twisted and mutilated body, just a few yards away. “What is it you like to call yourself? Orr-Deal? And that’s supposed to be because you consider it an ordeal to cross you, right?” Dixon slowly nodded, still too stunned to speak. “How amusing... Well, Orr-Deal,” he said the name so mockingly. “You probably think I’m some sort of demon, and you’re not far off. I assure you though, I’m far worse than that.” “Who... are you?” “Silly child, have you not figured it out yet? You have many names for me, Apophis in Egypt, Typhon in Greece, even the Levathian in Hebrew. You may know me as the Devil,” the evil figure replied leeringly. “I prefer Lucifer, but you may call me whatever you life. You’re probably wondering why you are here, I assume?” ... “I’ll take you silence as confirmation. Well, it’s simple really. I saved your life. You dove into a burning building, which you set on fire, like an idiot, and me being the kindly old soul that I am, stole you from death. I’m sorry for the visions, I just couldn’t resist having a little fun. I hope you don’t mind? Good.” Somehow Dixon was finding it all believable, after all he had lived a life of sin and had been a believer in God. Ending up in Hell was no stretch of the imagination. “If I’m in Hell... what do you mean you saved my life?” The devil laughed. “This is most assuredly not Hell. That place is much more colorful. We aren’t physically anywhere right now. Well I mean, your body is actually in your car, but that’s besides the point. This is your mind, OrrDeal.” “Let’s say I believe you... why did you save me?” Dixon asked, getting some of his nerve back. “I don’t care if you believe me OrrDeal, you are in no place not to. And as to why I saved you? Simple, really... I want you to be my slave.” Dixon took a step back, so astounded that his knees went weak. “Wha... what do you mean, slave?!” he shouted. “Oh my... I must have strucken a nerve. Okay maybe slave was a bad choice of words. More like... assistant. Between you and me, I don’t have a lot of power outside of Hell, myself, but I am able to do a few things. Rescuing you was about my limits on living creatures though,” Satan replied, shrugging. It occured to Dixon that his body had changed without him even noticing at first. His body had become that of a man, his face took, with a short, well groomed beard. “If you don’t have any power over me, then what stops me from telling you to fuck off and going my own way? What makes you think I’ll do anything for the Devil?” he challenged. At this Lucifer laughed again. “My boy... you fail to understand. Yes I kept you from death, but you aren’t exactly living anymore. Imagine you’re in some kind of limbo, spiritually. I allowed your body to stay on Earth, but I control your soul. You belong to me, OrrDeal, but don’t worry, I think you’ll find I’m not as despicable as your little religious paint me.” “So you’re not evil?” “Oh no, I guess I was unclear. I’m evil, OrrDeal, as evil as one can be, but I always show my gratitude. Your services will be rewarded, greatly, and I’m sure you won’t be unhappy. I’m sure we could even work out something with your two friends, what were their names... Big Moe and Wyatt?” At the mention of his friends’ names Dixon clenched his fists and stepped forward. “What have you done with them?!” The Devil shrugged innocently. “I’ve done nothing with them, OrrDeal! Believe me! Quite the opposite, I’ve allowed them to entire the Midlands. That’s neither Heaven nor Hell. Think of it as a show of good faith, from me to you.” Dixon stepped back and relaxed a little. “If that’s the case, then what exactly do you have on me? Do you have my parents?” “Oh gosh no, OrrDeal, they went to that dreaded place Heaven. No no, unlike you they were mostly assuredly good people. But hey, what fun is that? As for leverage, since you seem to think I need some, I could always bring your friends back to Hell. They may be in Midlands, but as their records in life will tell you, they definitely belong to me. I’d chalk it up to a clerical error. Simple really.” All of this was very confusing to Dixon, who’s believe in Heaven and Hell was simple. You went to one or the other. Herer was Satan telling him that wasn’t so. “Why wouldn’t you need leverage?” At this the Devil seemed a little impatient. Pain shot through Dixon’s body, the same pain he’d felt in the hospital bed, but something held him on his feet. “I get bored of repeating myself, OrrDeal. I told you already, your soul belongs to me even if your body doesn’t. I can call you back to Hell at any time, and your body, while alive, would be left in what you people call a coma.” The pain receded and Dixon narrowed his eyes. “Fine... what do you want with me? You said I could help you. What do I need to do?” The impatience faded, replaced again with a slight smile. “Through you, I can accomplish a few things. I won’t bore you with all of the details now, but as the opportunites arise I will fill you in. For the time being, I’ve given you a gift. As you were, you wouldn’t have been much help. Far too weak. I’ve given you a little bit of power to get you started, but you’ll need to begin training if you hope to survive in my service.” “Why not just give me all the power I’ll need?” Dixon asked. “Well yes I could do that, but I don’t appreciate lazy servants and besides, you wouldn’t even know how to use it. This way you’ll actually know how to use what you earn. Anyways, that’s quite enough for now. You can go do what you like for now, I’ll be in contact when I need to be.” Before Dixon could say anything else everything faded to black again and in a few moments he realized his eyes were closed so he opened them to find he’d returned to his body. Just as Lucifer had said he was sitting in his car in an empty parking lot. “Was... was that even real?” Words: 1153/4609 |
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| Jeice | Aug 30 2016, 05:43 AM Post #5 |
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As if to answer his question, he felt a burning sensation on the back of his hand. He rubbed at it but there was nothing there. As he watched though, a black M inscribed itself into his skin. The burning faded as soon as the letter was finished. Dixon tried to rub it off but it wouldn’t come off. “I guess that answers that... fucking weird,” he said. For a few minutes he just sat and stared at it, then with a deep breath and a long sigh he started the car. It roared to life, it’s powerful engine rumbling under the hood, happy to be running again. Putting the car in gear, he dumped the clutch and it lurched forward... and stalled out. “Fuck... Calm down man, shit.” Dixon tried again and this time he didn’t stall out like a total scrub and a moment later he was speeding down the street, as he often did. His destination was the very same building he should have died in just a few min- how much time had actually passed? He realized he had no idea. Whatever. Within a half hour, he’d been parked pretty far away, he pulled up to the curb next to the building and turned his car off. With a glance at his hand he got out of the car and looked towards the building to find it was mostly rubble. Amazingly the roof, or what was left of it, was still standing, but there was a hole a few feet around that he knew must be where he fell through it when he jumped. Looming over the building he could see the building he’d jumped from. The side of it was covered in black from the smoke, but it was unharmed because of the alley-way between the buildings. “Wait!” he yelled and took off running. He dashed down an alley way, jumping a fence in the process and run to the back of the building. Wyatt, when he fell over the side after being shot, would have landed between the buildings. When he reached the area he looked but saw nothing, just an empty alley. Not even a blood stain on the cement. It wasn’t exactly the weirdest thing he’d seen in the last few... however long it had been, but it was still pretty strange. It occured to him that the debris from the fire looked like they’d been out for awhile too. Certainly it didn’t seem the fire had only just quenched itself. As he walked back and was climbing into his car, he noticed Big Moe’s car, which he’d wrecked into the building, was gone too, along with the bodies that should’ve been there. Some kind of time had definitely passed since he last remembered being here, but how much? Starting his car, he sat for a few minutes and thought about all that had transpired. Big Moe and Wyatt were gone. He was... dead? Alive? In Limbo? Whatever it was, something had changed. Every time he started thinking it might have been a dream, the back of his hand burned slightly as if to remind him otherwise. Okay, it all was true. He was now the Devil’s servant, whatever that meant. Satan had told him though that he was free to do whatever he wanted for the time being though. He would be in contact when he needed something. “Fine... I’ll play your game.” With that, he threw the car in gear, screeched the tires and peeled away from the building, leaving it behind him. He had other things to do. Words: 599/5,208 FINISHED |
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