For the love of life,...

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Action and Adventure  |  House: Booksie Classic
What seemed my only option,...

Submitted: February 25, 2011

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Submitted: February 25, 2011



There using your idea against us,.....
I know..
It's a genius idea,.. let me be the first to thank you for your genius contribution to an already multi-faceted criminal underworld u fucking genius!!
I get it, ok. Sarcasm used literally isn't sarcasm you know, it's just arrogant plattitudes,.
Plattitudes??!! Fuck you!..
I'll do it.
How can u do it...
I need something first..

The streets aren't so busy today,.. i don't know if i like them more on busier days or slower ones like this.. I suppose the only difference is how much
my own thoughts reside in my head or on the world around me,..

Four more blocks..
I need to keep my steps evenly spaced,.. a lil gangstger lean to my swagger.... cuz thats normal for these parts. He has to be unsuspecting, thats key.
I can't wait till this is over,.. Although co-incedentally, this could be the beginning i suppose.... I kill him, his friends kill me or my firends.
I or my friends exact a reckoning shaped vengance on them or their family. It all depends on how they want to play it. It ends how they want it to end.
I only act, and this whole city knows what my decision will be before i even make it... Well, at least i do.

Three more blocks..
It's not like i don't want to be here, but this isn't the situation i was hoping to produce from all this either... Fuck will i ever get some deadly
street-cred for this one, lol.. Like i don't have enough already... Motherfuckers should know the consequences of their actions,.. They must have been
high when they thought up threatning my family like that. No, i know better,.. Their decision was made by a combination of their ego's and a lack of
general intelligence and foresight.. They honestly don't know how else to deal with someone simply not paying them.

Two more blocks..
I don't know how this is all going to play out, but i do know what comes next. I wanna hold the hilt like a samurai, but in todays age that would be kind
of cliche.. The situation doesn't call for it either. It could if i wanted to exude honrable insanity. I'm going to completley surprise them by walking right by them
as a typically un-assuming
gangster that doesn't want to give up his half of the sidewalk we share attempting not to show any kind of weakness or willingness to be moved..
The fact that he could very well knock out anyone i've ever met with one punch would not sway the mind of anyone around here from perfoming a habitually
engraved train of thought. He knows that, so i'm goin with normal,..

One more block..
Do a check- 'patts left hip, touches right pocket.'
I knew they didn't go anywhere, but my mind needed that.....
In my heart,.. I hope i somehow die in this fight,.. but I know i won't. I planned it to well. And I can't see it going any other way than how i planned it,..
Unless he recognizes my face through the black fabric of my hood which i will make impossible by staring at the ground allowing the edge of my hood to reveal
my neck, and nothing more. I'll keep track of his position by watching his feet in stride. The centre of balance for humans is between the hips which i
prolly won't be able to see but can accuratley track with the sight of just a couple of his steps.

Stops, leans against the 4-way stop sign. Pulls out a pack of export-a blue, glancing right, down the street in one smooth action. Theres his truck.
I remove the second last smoke and places it between my lips. Returning the pack to my
pocket and removing the black lighter in one motion lighting my cigarrette and returning the lighter where I found it.
Pulling on the regular sized cigarrette he glances right again,.. down the street. No movement yet.
This constant turning of my head in the same direction has got to look sketchy to anyone who might be watching. But then again, a sucker staring at his
fucking shoes looks weak and would fo' sho get checked by the average gangsta round these parts. I look normal.
I hate waiting,... Whats this, the calm before the storm right..
I can't help but feel sorry for these faggots... They had, and have no idea! Fuck it, i'm a play the role i'm given and send them on.
I wonder if his kids will live better being raised by their mother?... Assuming she gets them, fucking coke-head is all spun out.
In all honesty, i'm sure he could raise them better for the simple fact he would've raised them strong like only a man can..
A split second thought questions my resolve if i'm worried about his kids at a time like this,.. It only lasts a split second because i've gone through
this paticular train of thought a couple hundred times pedanticly arriving at the only possible answer. I'm over-sensitive. Always have been.
Ten years ago, i thought it was chartaristic of being weak. But i was wrong. Over thinking everything gives me an edge, and empathisizing allows me to
feel righteous about the fucked up decisions i'm forced into.
Self loathing gets me nowh -

My body goes into a reflexive action taking the first step to my right down the sidewalk in his direction. MY ADRENALINE IS JACKED!!
Staring at the ground, i think about what i saw. There was 4 plus him. Wondering if his friends have kids, I conciously decide not to allow my mind the time and space.
I go into a mental auto-pilot, just waiting to see his shoes while keeping up a perfectly unassuming swagger. He was only 2 houses down so it won't be long cuz i can
hear them talking. Which was getting louder, but stopped altogether and i know it's because they've focused on me all thinking the same thing. 'This guy must think
he's tough.' I see the first pair of shoes, and they're not his. The fact i haven't looked up leads them to believe i'm not tough at all and prolly a lil scared.
I planned this to well,...
Not his shoes,..
My arms twitching, knowing exactly where to go when i see his sh -

In the quickest motion i'm capable of, my right hand grips the hilt of the 1095 high carbon steel katana hanging from my left hip under my jacket.
Removing it from the sheath, looking into darrens eyes, and slicing through half the diameter of his head in one action is what my auto-pilot was waiting for.
The sword wasn't what i told john i needed before embarking on a suicide mission without what comes next.
I'm replacing the bloddy sword in it's sheath and backstepping towards the street at the same time as darrens 4 friends all advance in my direction with hate in their
eyes. My left hand reaches into my right pocket and produces a fragmentation grenade i procured from a friend of mine working on base. Already having spun the
180 degrees facing away from darrens friends, i do a mental check. I'll have 2 seconds.

Pull the pin.
Hearing their footseps almost in time with mine directly behind me i drop the grenade behind me and remember this where my plan won't allow me to partake in the
silent comfort that is death. I contiue to run, taking about 4 and a half steps in the 2 seconds i had left before i hear it.
Their large obese bodies characteristic of bikers shielded me from the blast, like i knew it would.
I skid to stop locking my ankles and sliding the soles of my shoes across the gravel of the asphalt road.
I turn towards the muffled gargling of blood and silence. The fattest 3 of the 4 are incredibly chewed up! I couldn't count all the peices if i had all day,...
Either the fastest or the angriest with me for killing his friend was right behind me and is relatively alright save for the shrapnel in his thigh which i discern
has exposed his femoral artery to the arid afternoon air due to the large pool of blood quickly forming around his body.
He's staring at me with an intense hatred in his eyes breathing deeply while cursing me under his breath.
I read my expression through his, I'm panting but my face divulges a general indifference to the situation for a lack of anger which is making him madder.
Stepping towards him, i remove my katana from it's sheath one more time slowly to allow him any last thoughts. He starts screaming curses as I just about remove
the top of his head slicing through his forhead first, leaving only a flap of scalp to hold it all in place.
I wonder if he had kids?.......

© Copyright 2019 Joseph Knecht. All rights reserved.

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