R-r-ramblings

[Dee]

Only one I'm willing to post. The others I can't post because they're original and the ones that are fan fiction, I hesitate to seeing as how they're targeted to a specific audience. In any case, here is the one and only video game fan story I have written that I feel comfortable posting. It's from Final Fantasy VII about the Turks.

 

(Disclaimer: This was written years ago. I apologize for any horrid grammar, spelling or general shit issues.)

 

-

 

What We Do

 

Those of us who stood in the doorway never troubled ourselves with the lives we were about to destroy; still and watchful, eyes darting spryly about the hall––that was their duty.

 

And then there were the ones who did the dirty work.

 

A wife, two kids, small home business.

 

I held a steady aim to his head while the man cowered in the corner of the dining room like a dog, shivering, with his tail tucked between his legs. He wasn't so tough--what, with all the shit he pulled earlier. I guess he really wasn't expecting to get caught seein' as how he had dropped his bowl the moment we so graciously let ourselves in. It shattered into pieces around his feet, but that was the least of his worries. Probably figured he'd have a bullet in his head soon enough.

"Where is it?" I asked. We were doing something I liked to call a "clean sweep", which, unfortunately, didn't happen very much. It's not that I enjoyed the act of killing people. What sick fuck would? No. This was different. I liked having the power to burst in unannounced, kick ass and take names. I guess you could say that's what would happen most of the time. But we would only kill if the situation called for it. And never a peasant either. When we wasted someone, they were always trash who deserved it––nothing more, nothing less.

 

Again, I asked, "Where…is it?" Man, was he getting on my nerves. I had no patience considering his wife and children could come home at any moment. We were not as heartless as some claimed. I'd rather do the deed first and get away unnoticed. At least then we wouldn't burden the family with any unnecessary rage of knowing the face of their beloved's killer. If only he would just tell me what I needed to know then we wouldn't be in such a situation.

 

I glanced to my right at my partner who took it upon himself to search for the sole purpose of our presence. He was even trying to be as neat as humanly possible. If it were me, I'd tear the place apart. Fuck being polite. Where was the respect when he decided to cause an uproar? You can't act a certain way and demand to be treated with reverence in return. It doesn't work like that. It never has and it never will.

 

"…Anything?" I spoke over my shoulder. He was still searching, but there was nothing. So I turned my attention back to our target and said something along the lines of, "Look, I'm bein' nice here. I could put a bullet in your head right now if I wanted to. All I'm askin' is that you tell us where it is and we can get out of your hair. It's as simple as that."

 

We were getting nowhere fast and my patience was running thin. I could feel my finger wrapped around the trigger begin to tremble. Even my arm tensed as I tried not to go off before we got an answer. Maybe all of this was just pointless and a waste of time. If I were in charge, I'd rough him up a little, but the boss didn't want that. He said to keep it clean, leave no evidence behind if at all possible, and to only use force as a last resort. Still, I was finding it hard to stand there and wait uncomplainingly while the guy did nothing but shit his pants.

 

"Can't you just look in the general direction? We'll find it ourselves."

 

It was no use. He was scared out of his mind. He was barely even breathing let alone deciding whether or not to tell us what we needed to know. So I lost it. I let one off and went against the boss's orders. It didn't hit him, though. The bullet pierced the wall a few inches away from his head in an explosion of white plaster and wood. If I wanted to kill him, I could and would have. But all I was trying to do was get an answer.

 

To my right, my partner glanced over his shoulder having been startled by the loud crack. Through his dark sunglasses, I could tell he was glaring at me. I smiled sheepishly and dropped the gun to my side. Maybe now we would get somewhere.

 

"Listen, buddy…" I spoke softly as I came to a crouch right in front of him. He'd fallen to the floor onto his behind, curled up in a little ball, shivering, shaking. His eyes were as wide as dinner plates, and I swear I could hear his heart beating at a million miles an hour. "I'll make you a deal, but you gotta listen carefully, alright? 'Cause you know I'm not fucking around."

 

The man nodded furiously; his mouth hung slack.

 

Good. This was working.

 

"How about…you tell me where it is I can find what we came for, and I won't put a bullet in your face next time?"

 

At first, I thought maybe we'd go through the same thing we'd been over the last half hour, but I was wrong. He nodded––yes––again and finally pushed himself up from the floor. I followed behind eagerly, flashing my partner a sly grin as we rushed by. He ended up tagging along as well, but not before carefully setting down what looked to be some fancy dinnerware back on the hutch.

 

In a small room that was lined with boxes that reached the ceiling, he fell to his knees and pushed to the side a small rug. Under that rug was the outline of a doorway, which he pulled up to reveal a hiding space. I stood inside the room near a cluttered desk and watched as the man retrieved a small box; the only item not covered in a thin film of dust. He rose from his knees and returned to us, handing over the box in the process. But before we left I needed to check something. All of the papers were in there and intact. Not a thing was missing.

 

"See, that wasn't so hard, was it?" I smiled and patted him on the shoulder with the hand in which I held my gun. He just stood there looking mightily defeated, but this was definitely not worth his life. "I don't want to have to come back here again, you hear me?"

 

Another furious nod assured me that the man had probably learned his lesson.

 

As promised, we took our leave. The car was waiting outside with its engine running. It even seemed that no one had noticed the gunshot either, but that was the city for ya. Another mission accomplished and without any bloodshed; though I would have preferred to go about it a different way. Perhaps the boss would throw me a bone in the future.

 

There was always next time.

[TheForgetfulBrain]

Not too shabby at all. You write well.

 

Unfortunately, I haven't played FFVII for yeeeears, so I don't really recall any of the subject matter, but it works on its own.

[Dee]

That's what it was, a sort of stand alone, different perspective into what they might possibly do.

[Dee]

This is an original piece I wrote for a contest (I think the prompt was an action scene). It's short. It's about 1,730 words and has a few curses in it, but otherwise it is probably PG-13 by those standards.

 

Dancing in the Street

 

Luis had never been a big fan of rain, but the night called for plenty of showers across the city. He wouldn’t have cared as much if he didn’t have to drive halfway across town, except it was too risky to go through with the deal where someone might recognize them. They decided on a location nearly 30 minutes away; an old, rundown apartment on the Upper West Side.

 

He could feel the car hydroplane over the large puddles of water that formed on the roadway. Fat droplets of rain splattered hard against the windshield. The wipers flew back and forth on their highest speed, whishing away the streams of water as new ones formed in their place. Instinctively, Luis glanced in his rear view mirror at the few sets of headlights that followed him in the darkness. He thought nothing of them.

 

It had become a habit for the man to constantly check his back. He couldn’t afford not to be apprehensive about maintaining anonymity with the possibility that someone might be following him; now more so than ever. Over the next ten minutes, everything seemed to be going according to plan. Some part of him wondered if it was just his imagination; a silly optimism that maybe he’d get away Scott free like so many other times before.

 

On the outskirts of the city, his dark eyes darted to the mirror again. They spotted one vehicle in particular whose headlights seemed strangely familiar (one had to be up to date on knowing each make and model). Somewhere in the back of his mind he knew he’d seen them before. And this was not just some ordinary set of headlights. The car was rather particular to someone who knew what they were looking for. But, then again, just as possible as it was for him to be overly paranoid, something deep down in his gut was telling him to keep an eye out for that car.

 

As traffic continued to thin, the assumption had become frighteningly true. There were only two cars left, and even as toyed with his speed, the vehicle kept its ground. Now, it was much too far out to be a coincidence. Those goddamn cops were on his tail and he’d have to lose them.

 

-

 

“He’s heading back into the city,” Nate pointed out, watching the car merge toward the off ramp. Red taillights shined brightly when their target braked for the stop sign.

 

“He knows we’re following him,” Luke said.

 

“Well, we’re too far out to back off now. We’ll just have to put more distance between him and us.”

The plan sounded thorough enough. So far, Luis had been following the rules; breaking for the stop sign and using his blinkers. Then, when the road straightened out, he would keep his speed at no more than five miles over the posted speed limit. They made it half a mile from the highway when Luis’s car began to pick up speed in spite of the nasty weather.

 

“Crap...” Nate muttered under his breath and pressed down harder on the gas. Now that they had been discovered, there was no doubt in his mind. Staying hidden was no longer necessary. If they were going to keep up with their suspect, he would need to break some rules. “Hold onto something.”

 

Nate clenched the steering wheel almost painfully. He knew it would be dangerous, he knew it would be risky, but despite all of this his stomach still dropped as the car suddenly swerved through a small break in the median, head on at oncoming traffic. The back of the car fishtailed, and, miraculously, found traction again as the tires hissed loudly, spraying a mist of water up in their wake. Luis had managed to maneuver his car through a back alley--the bastard--though, much to his dismay, quickly coming to a dead end. The only way out was to aim for yet another alley that led back to the main road and he took it without hesitation.

 

Of course, Nate had no intention of following him through there. He knew this neighborhood like the back of his hand and he knew that if he stayed on the main road that they would meet up at the next intersection. As expected, the car plowed from out between the two buildings and back onto the street. There were no others cars or pedestrians, thank God, Nate thought, as the neighborhood was virtually deserted. It gave both men a bit of time to catch their breath, but not for long.

 

Out of the corner of his eyes, he could see Luke tense up and grab onto the door handle. He hadn't noticed it at first, but the car had spun around where it was once parallel to them. Now, at the speed it was going, depending on his next move, they could easily be in the back of an ambulance. But that was the least of his worries. His heart skipped a beat at the thought of some unsuspecting motorist caught in the mix. Fortunately, only they were in grave danger for their suspect had no intention of stopping. He had little time to react, slamming on the brakes before the hood could be completely demolished. The car skidded forward, barely missing a total and utter devastating accident and came to a settle in the intersection.

 

-

 

He was so close to getting away. Had they been a split second earlier there was no doubt in his mind that the car would be a smoldering wreck. Luis wanted to smile, was expecting to be wearing a big grin across his face, but all he could do was frown. The rain was coming down even harder now making it even more difficult to see. He had only ever been that way through town once and could not for the life of him remember if the road kept straight or if he’d be forced to take it easy. What he did know, however, was that it was too late to lose them.

 

“Damn it!” Luis spat, pounding the steering wheel hard enough for it to hurt. His heart pumped wildly, knocking hard against his breast and beads of sweat had formed above his brow. Luis racked his brain, thinking of what to do next. The further they drove down that road, the more populated the area became. He knew he couldn’t keep up his speed if there were other cars blocking his way, and he sure as hell didn’t want to end up live on the 10 o’clock news in some police chase.

 

Just as the next street sign became visible, Luis made up his mind. He would take the next main road that led deeper into town and hope he could regain the upper hand. A quick glance in the rear view mirror and he could see the car coming up behind him again. That moment was enough to distract him of the red lights braking ahead. When his eyes focused on what was in front of him, on instinct, Luis stomped the brake.

 

Despite his attempt to avoid crashing into the back of the car, Luis was certain the situation would end badly. The car skidded forward before veering into a spin, as Luis had directed it. In his mind, he turned over the phrase he’d heard from various sources, “Always turn into the spin”. He could have kicked himself for braking too hard--an automatic reaction--but it was much too late to do anything about it. The closer he came to the back of the car, the harder his heart beat in his chest. He thought it might explode.

 

Instead of trying to correct his mistakes, he squeezed his eyes shut and hoped for the best. The car spun once, twice, three times and a fourth and still no impact. It came to a stop, eventually, in the middle of the intersection without having hit anything, much to Luis’s surprise. Just narrowly, he’d missed the trunk of a dark maroon colored sedan and headed into the wrong side of traffic. The road was clear; lucky for him, he thought. Then it struck, he was still being chased.

 

Managing to regain his senses, Luis went for the door handle, tugging and pulling when suddenly it popped open. He stumbled at first, struggling to find his balance. His big boots splashed through the water on the street. A few seconds later, the other car stopped just in front of his and the two plainclothes officers jumped out, hot on his trail.

 

The brunet was the fastest. He darted across the road, leaving his partner behind in the dust. With no alleyways to duck into, Luis was forced to follow the sidewalk. Slithering through the crowd that roamed the street had become a dance. The closer the brunet got to him, the more distracted Luis became. He was damn near colliding into people’s shoulders, knocking them off balance with a, "Hey!" or a "Watch it, buddy!" before he felt someone tug at the loose fabric on his shirt.

 

One blink and Luis collided face first against the cement; a heaviness weighed him down. He cried loudly when the man twisted his arm behind his back. Even though he knew he wouldn’t be able to get out of the hold, Luis put up a fight anyway. He threw his head up and kicked his legs, feeling his skull connect to something hard and he knew he’d gotten in at least one good hit. Luis regretted the act of retaliation when the cop lifted his arm even higher. The bone, he thought, was cracking.

 

By then, his partner had caught up, huffing for breath. He was already on his cell phone, instructing bystanders to step aside. All of it had been a complete waste.

 

"You...you all right?" Luke asked, heaving for breath. They'd put him on hold. He gestured with a finger to his face where Nate figured he must be bleeding. Whatever was coming out of his nose was probably blood.

 

"Fine," Nate replied and, once the suspect was cuffed, threw his leg from back over the man to stand upright. He yanked Luis with him, thankful that he was no longer struggling and said, "Let's just get this ass wipe in the car."