Short story

First off before I put this down I wana thank Kano cause reading his stories have inspired me to try and finish this, which i started at least two years ago. The character from this story is the basis for my psychotic character Walter so I'll warn you its a pretty dark and twisted story that is as of yet unfinished. I guess im posting it here to look for some comments on what people like think is stupid ect. Please don't sugar coat if you dislike something, be as blunt as possible.

Untitled Tale


Sacreen, a city of darkness bathing in life, the place where souls go to die, a lethal training ground for the darkness and corruption within all of us. Here where morality and life are bought and sold at ten cents a pound, the air reeks of ecstasy, violence, love and blood. The human embodiment of greed, lust and desire, where every want and need is displayed before you, just so you can see what you can never have. I like it here, here where the nights are darker stained with the blood of the hopeful and innocent, here where the only mask is the smiling faces greeting you when you first arrive, happy to see a new and untrained target easy to take, easy to control, and easy to kill.

“Can I help you with that sir?”

The well dressed and uniformed “taxi driver” asked as I exited the terminal, he reeked of blood and violence, probably still reeling from the last poor sap, he “helped” by taking his baggage and shortly later his life… this will be fun, the ride had been long and I needed to stretch.

“Sure where are you parked?”

This perfect excuse to take me somewhere dark and secluded was like the fresh scent of Christmas morning, his eyes lit up like a boy tearing open colored paper and shining ribbon to find that one gift he had so desperately wanted. How interesting it would be to watch that light dim and fade like the last twinkle of the morning frost before the heat of the sun burned it away. Don’t misunderstand me I have no right to judge, a monster is a monster regardless of what he does. But here in the city of monsters where the corrupt and evil prey on the meek and desperate, the wealthiest and most powerful were the monsters who fed on others, I am no savior ridding the streets of the dark and depraved. There are those that call me hero, the man who stands and kills the darkness that is eating away at the heart of this city. If they knew the truth they would hate me, or they wouldn’t care.

The taxi driver introduced himself as Bill his idle chatter barely able to contain the excitement in his voice. Picking on tourists and new comers was the place of the weakest and poorest of criminals. Put on a confused face, act meek and stupid they would come running like flies to a fresh corpse. As we walked through the terminal Bill hardly stopped speaking, he was nervous I could tell his eyes seemed to shift with unnatural speed and he was sweating profusely even for the incredible heat of the midday sun. As we stepped out of the air-conditioned terminal we took a sharp right almost immediately after exiting. The parking lot was to the left, so Bill was taking me to the alley about two blocks away.

Looking to the wall on my right I can see one of the many travel posters that covered the town a smiling family in front of a large building with ornate gold trim, The old Sacreen a decadent place of untold wealth and fortune easy to grab considering the streets where practically paved with it. The small island in the middle of pacific had been discovered almost thirty years ago by its’ sole ruler known as Mr. Zal his real name was a mystery, instead they called him by the name that had made him rich Zalene, the plant that grew in this one place, this perfect island. The psychoactive drug had hit the world market like a typhoon. Easier to grow than grass, while a drop of it would make you happier than heroin, hornier than ecstasy, and give you visions like the best acid trip of your life. The substance had zero physical side effects despite the mental addiction. Almost the perfect anesthesia when distilled the sap from the long stringy hanging vine, it was demanded by doctors, druggies, lawyers and presidents. The small island is one of the wealthiest and most powerful nations in the world. Able to cripple economies by with holding its’ wares, the city runs above the law. Perhaps that’s why so many are attracted to it, hundreds flock to the city each year, dropouts, businessmen, and run aways. The city was constantly growing like a cancerous lump on the heart of the island. Once a beautiful tropical paradise the island was now a booming metropolis complete with the young, the old, and the murderous. As well as those like me who lived beyond bounds of life and death, who understood the thrill of the hunt and the kill.

Then there were creatures like Bill a separate being all together, he was probably once human but the cancer of this city had spread into him consuming his once innocent and loving mind, to create the useless scavenger he was now. We picked up the pace slightly as we walked out into the street to cross to a nearby alleyway. Bill wasn’t stupid, at least he knew the more time he spent out in the open the more time he gave his prey to realize the trap. It was nearly a five-minute walk until we reached the small alley way where he had a bright yellow, probably stolen, taxi stashed away.

“Here we are sir. If you would just tell me where you are going?”

Bill reached into his car as he spoke as if wiping off the back seat, a clever deception so he could grab the ice cold black metal nine-millimeter hidden in the crease of the seats. His eyes widened in the reflection of the far window as I slid a small curved blade in between his first and second ribs puncturing the lung. Blood pooled into the back of his throat and mouth as it rose from his drowning lungs leaving him suffocating in the back seat. I closed the door gently behind him and slid into the drivers seat, turning the key I had lifted from his pocket and starting the yellow cabs engine the light purr an orchestral symphony with the gurgles of my dying compatriot. I felt a connection with Bill just like all the others, a sense of ironic fulfillment, a sense of accomplishment, a sadistic lust maybe? I was never quite sure; the thrill of killing another predator was unlike any other high. Believe me I had tried them all including heroine, coke, meth and zalene. Pretty much anything that could be snorted, smoked, injected, or consumed I hade tried. Nothing quite compared to killing, the hot feel of the red blood drying on my hands felt like an injection of the purest heroine, his widening eyes better than a hundred lines of coke, and his final breath more satisfying than the purest Z.

I dropped the taxi off a few blocks down and walked towards the municipal parking,