Writing Vendetta [M-VLS]

[Blayze]

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[/font][center][b][font=Lucida Sans Unicode][u]Chapter One: Back-Stabbing Bastard[/u][/font][/b]
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He stood there, staring, at the body. In death, slumped over the police station steps, she seemed limp, helpless as she had never been in life. Her skin was beginning to fade from a healthy bronze to a pallid grey, as her body lay in a pool of slowly-congealing blood, her golden hair soaked in the very same crimson fluid. He knelt down and drew her eyelids over her crystal-blue eyes with a single hand movement, sighing.

This kind of thing happened all the time in this city. He was used to the sight of these things, but that didn't mean the job was any easier. He twisted a battered, self-rolled cigarette into the corner of his mouth and lit the end with a plain chrome Zippo lighter, hearing the hiss and seeing the puff of noxious smoke as the cigarette caught. He drew in a lungful of smoke, and blew it out into the cold evening's air, feeling the chemicals pour into his bloodstream, and felt that same rush that every nicotine addict feels after they have been craving a smoke.

Opening his jacket, he slipped the silenced pistol into his shoulder holster and walked away. This part of his job was done...

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I lay there, my head swirling with the memories of the previous night gradually swimming into my vision. I shook my head as I sat up, and immediately regretted it. Lines of pain were drawn from my eye sockets right the way round to the top of my spine, and I shuddered as the water welled up in my eyes. Grabbing the bottle from my bedside table, I spun the lid off and took a gulp, shuddering again as the burning liquid flowed down my throat. My vision began to clear, and I managed to shakily get to my feet, and grab the small bottle of tablets from a shelf near my bed. Flicking the top off with my thumb, I threw a couple of pills down my throat and washed them down with the anonymous liquor that still lay in my hand.

The pain began to fade, and my vision returned to me. My parole officer had given me the pills to calm me down, but recently their effectiveness had begun to wane. She was a good girl, was Sakura, the only woman who had ever really been kind to me. It was a funny feeling when another human being did something nice for you, one that not many people experienced in this city. But Sakura was a genuine carer, her heart full of goodness, and how I envied her ability to have that.

I sat on the edge of my bed, and grabbed the remote for the TV. I was fortunate enough to have a relatively expensive apartment, bought and paid for by my sister, who wanted me to live as good a life as I could here in the city. She was a saint, never corrupted by the darkness like I was, never exposed to the raw side of life that I see every day. I flicked the TV on and saw a news report, stating that a prostitute had been found murdered outside the police station. A "gunshot wound to the head," was what the press was saying was the cause, and there were various angled shots of an occupied body bag being led towards an ambulance on a stretcher.

[b]"Oh, shit,"[/b] I said to myself, [b]"This could mean trouble."[/b]

I got to my feet, threw my shoulder holster on, and grabbed my jacket. There was no time to change, the clothes I had on yesterday would have to last another day. I ran a hand through my dark brown hair as I swung my jacket over my shoulders, slipping my arms into the sleeves.

I had a long day ahead of me.

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[b]"This just in,"[/b] boomed the news anchor, [b]"The unfortunate news of a prostitute being found dead outside the police station has been followed this morning with the tragedy of a police officer found dead in the West Quarter. The police officer, who shall not be named due to the family's wish for privacy in this matter, was found lying outside a well-known bar in the area with a number of gunshot wounds to the chest and head. Rope burns were also found on his wrists and ankles. More on this story when we have it. Over to you, Alex..."[/b]

The young woman flicked the TV off and threw the remote onto the floor, where it settled among a pile of laundry that had yet to be done. She got up from the couch and padded across the floor to the sink that sat in the corner of the room, spinning the cold tap so a gushing flow of icy water spurted into the sink. Cupping her hands, she collected water in them and splashed it over her face, trying desperately to wake herself up.

She sighed, and placed her hands on the sides of the sink, looking at her reflection in the mirror. While she was clearly an attractive woman, right at this point this fact was covered by seeming aeons of the inability to sleep. Dark rings had formed under her eyes, and her skin seemed paler than usual.

Suddenly, her window exploded inwards, shards of glass flying across the room, ripping wallpaper from the walls and embedding themselves in the floor. She threw her hand up in front of her face and fell to the floor, shocked by the explosion, which had robbed her of her sight and hearing.

[b]"Fuck!"[/b] she exclaimed. Someone had thrown in a flashbomb.

As soon as her eyesight returned, she saw that she was surrounded by a number of figures dressed in black combat uniforms, helmets and gauntlets, holding automatic rifles. The SWAT Team.

[b]"Bitch,"[/b] spat one of them, aiming a swift kick to the side of her head, knocking her unconscious...

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I stood there, the very place where the prostitute had been knocked off. Blood still stained the step, although the rain had washed the majority away. I knelt down, trying to get some kind of feeling for what had happened, but nothing came. I really needed to see the body to work this one out.

[b]"You're in too far for your own good this time,"[/b] said a voice from behind me, sporting a British accent somewhat similar to my own. I got to my feet and whirled around, seeing a tall, handsome man standing behind me, his dark hair slicked into messy spikes, his cheap grey suit covered by a long brown trenchcoat. My former partner in the police force.

[b]"I've only just started, Will. Something stinks here, and you know it. First, a hooker found dead on the steps of the police station. Then a police officer found dead in the West Quarter. Don't you think it's a little too convenient?"[/b] I asked him.

[b]"Ain't it obvious? The cops shot a hooker dead. The hookers down in the West Quarter fancied themselves a piece of revenge, so they shot a cop."[/b]

[b]"That's the official line, but you know that it's bullshit. No hooker would come this far out of the West Quarter, just like no cop would go that far into the West Quarter, not alone anyway. This has all been set up by someone."[/b]

[b]"You shouldn't be asking so many questions, Phil," [/b]said Will, sighing, [b]"That's what got you thrown off the force in the first place. You should just try and keep your nose clean, stay out of trouble. You're a good guy, I'd hate for anything to happen to you."[/b]
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"What's that supposed to mean?"[/b] I asked Will, watching as he drew a police-issue revolver from his shoulder holster, [b]"You gonna shoot me now?"[/b]

[b]"Only if you don't step away from that spot in the next thirty seconds, Phil. I can't let you get yourself into this."[/b]

[b]"Well, you know what, Will?"[/b] I said to him, my teeth gritted, [b]"Two words: Fuck. You."[/b]

I was whirled around as a bullet sped from the revolver, slamming into my right shoulder. A second bullet hit me square in the chest, and I was thrown to the ground in a shower of my own blood, spurting from my chest.

The last thing I saw before I blacked out was Will's revolver bearing down on my chest, and his face staring down at me.

[b]"Fuck yourself, Phil,"[/b] he said coldly before shooting me again. Everything went black as the third bullet hit my chest...

[i]Back-Stabbing Bastard...

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[left][font=Lucida Sans Unicode]Onto the bandwagon we jump as I introduce Vendetta, my brand new OB Fanfic. In a kind of Sin-City, noir-ish style, I hope this one is to people's satisfaction. It's going to be a little more dark and gritty than some of my other stories, so be prepared.

The story should seem pretty clear by now, so I won't bother explaining it. All I will say is, contrary to what the title says, this isn't going to be a standard, Kill Bill-style "get revenge on the people who betrayed me" kind of thing. I'm hoping to take it a lot deeper than that.

But anyway, a few characters have been introduced, although the majority of them will remain anonymous for now. Here is a list of those who have been mentioned...

[b]Myself - [/b]Phil/Narrator
[b]Jokopoko - [/b]Will
[b]Sakura the Parole Officer - [/b]Sakura

Enjoy - please leave some constructive criticism, I could definitely use it.[/font]
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