Heist – Episode 1

As you may have guessed by now, I have trouble coming up with titles. Anyhow, the current project is a Heist story. I originally wrote it as made for the web movie shot up in different short episodes. I wrote it a couple years back, got everyone together for some pre-production stuff and then we never made the movie due to time constraints. So I'm adapting into a story and here it is. As with "Hero's" Story I welcome your feedback, let me know what you like or dislike. Enjoy.

The room was dark except for the one bright light hung in the center, above the table, dangling from the drop ceiling. The walls were brick, painted over and over again with the cheapest off white paint possible. Sitting at the table was a wiry man, short blonde hair messily spiked this way and that. He was a small man, not young, but small and he leaned back, hands cuffed, an obnoxious little grin on his face.

“You and your little gang have quite a reputation, you’ve been busy the last few years.” Across the table from the man stood a police captain, his blue button down shirt tucked into grey pants. His tie hung just a little too low, thin glasses perched atop his nose, his hair was starting to pepper. A polished badge clipped on his belt read Captain Thomas Jackson.

“Listen, Trent, I know you aren’t smart enough to plan this all yourself, come clean and maybe we can work out a deal.”

The wiry man shrugged, his blue eyes almost passive as he stared up at the Captain. “I work alone.”

Captain Jackson tossed a manila folder down on the old table, surveillance pictures spilled out, pictures of Trent and three other men, all taken over the past few months.

“Try to cover for them all you want kid, but we’ll find your friends and when we do, one of them will break, turn on you and then you’re going away for a long time.”

“You seem so sure of yourself. If you know so much, why are you wasting time with me? Go out there and catch my friends.” Trent scoffed.

The Captain inhaled deeply and leaned down, palms resting on the table, the tip of his tie touching the old wood. “Listen smartass, this is your one chance to come clean, save yourself. You’d better start talking, and talking fast. Tell me everything and start at the beginning.”

A sigh escaped Trent’s lips as his eyes fell to the photos on the table, he wouldn’t talk, he’d never roll over on his friends. The four of them were like family and you didn’t turn on family. Sitting in the cold interrogation room he couldn’t help but let his mind slide back, back to the beginning.

“Hero’s” Story – Afterword

I’d like to thank everyone who showed support as I put up the story. I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. The idea for this story was mostly inspired by the Marvelous Bob by Michael Buonauro: http://web.archive.org/web/20040701223236/http://www.unknownhero.com/ . Make sure you check it out, he was a very talented guy.

My next project will be a little different, going to do some Medieval Fantasy about a character I developed with Mark Tesone. We will be collaborating and co-writing the tale together. I hope you enjoy what we have in store. Look for chapters of the new story early next week.

“Hero’s” Story – Chapter 28

I exhaled as the weight of the situation filled me. Dead. Julie dead, Bill dead, I couldn’t let this madman take my Son’s life. I tried so hard to be a hero, to save people’s lives. All I had done was ruin them. Shit, I turned a small time burglar into a serial killer.

“Daddy, please..” My Son sobbed, his big brown eyes desperate and filled with fear. What had I done? Looking into his pleading eyes I wished I could take it all back. Never fly again, just spend time with my kids, with my wife, have my family back again. Go on a picnic, tuck the kids into bed, go swimming in the pool. I knew it could never be, not after what I’d done.

Suddenly an idea popped into my head. I inhaled deeply. “Jolt, you let the boy go, or I swear, I will finish what I started when we first met.” My words were bold and self-assured, confident. It was an act, hopefully I could talk him down and it wouldn’t come to…

“You shut the fuck up! I’m in charge now! I’m in control! No more needles, or Wardens, no more rules! This is my world and I’m about to steal everything you’ve ever loved. Destroy everything you ever touched!”

Insanity filled his eyes; there would be no reasoning with him. I looked to my ex-wife.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”

I looked directly at Jolt. “Last chance kid.”

“Fuck you old man.”

Had to be perfect. I bent my knees slightly and flung myself at Jolt. I grabbed his arm with my left hand and my Son’s shoulder with my right hand. I tossed my boy towards his Mother as I tackled Jolt through the wall.

It only took a moment before Jolt lit up; electricity burst from his hands and covered my back, racing up my arms. Without looking, I knew where it was. I hugged Jolt tightly; the shock pierced my skin and tore at my insides as he increased the power. I flew us straight into the pool. Six feet deep we plummeted into the water.

Giant arcs of lightning leapt from the surface of the water. It hurt worse than anything that had ever happened to me. Worse than the Messiah, worse than the tank. Millions of needles poked my skin, wrenched my guts and burned my insides. I could feel my heart ready to explode. I opened my eyes and watched as Jolt overloaded himself and burned out.

His eyes went white as he stopped moving. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t care. To see death, to stare in someone’s face as they slide away, no one should have that power.

My body went limp as a gray mist formed to cloud my vision. No longer did I feel the sting of electricity, or the pain of tense muscles. I floated to the surface, my back exposed to the cool night air, face down watching Jolt sink. I couldn’t move, I was too weak to even lift my head out of the chlorinated water.

After a short time I felt delicate hands grabbing at my shoulders, pulling me out of the pool and onto the concrete. I looked up wearily. Staring down at me, blonde hair like a halo, eyes filled with tears, it was my wife.

“This was your secret?” she sobbed, “I would have understood.”

“I, I know.” I tried to reach a hand up to comfort her, but my arm wouldn’t move. “Is he, alright?”

My son poked his head into view, a scratch on his neck, but he was fine. “Dada?”

So weak, so cold, I fought back a wave of darkness that threatened to take me. I had to focus just to breathe.

“So, sorry, I’m so sorry.”

Staring up into the caring, tear filled eyes; I knew I had made the wrong choice. I knew that I should have stayed with her, raised our family. What a fool. There was no time left though. No time left to make it right.

“I love you.” I murmured. It was a strain to even move my lips. It took all my strength to push the sound out of my mouth.

“I know. I know”. She stroked my face with her slender cold hand. It’s the last thing I felt before the darkness closed in on me.

“Hero’s” Story – Chapter 27

I tore across town. My brain was clouded by everything that had happened, that was happening. It was me. Whoever it was, they were after me. Julie, Bill, dead. Now my family in danger, it was all my fault.

I don’t know how long it took to get to my ex-wife’s house. Probably minutes, it felt like hours. I came through the back door, hovering off the ground, trying not to make any noise. The house was quiet. Too quiet. My heart sank as I feared the worst.

Then I heard a sniffle from upstairs, followed by a short shush. I flew slowly up the stairs and into the hallway. I stopped outside the open door into my Son’s bedroom. A man stood, holding my son, smirking at me. A knife in his left hand, head shaved bald, a wife beater with a few drops of blood across the chest. Jailhouse tattoos covered his shoulders and arms.

“So, we meet again?” His voice was gritty, but held something familiar.

“Dad-“ My son pleaded, the man pushed the knife against his neck harder and stopped him.

“Do, do something.” My ex-wife stood in the corner, arms wrapped around our Daughter. Tears streamed down her face.

I must have looked puzzled. The Man’s eyes narrowed in frustration for a moment. Then, like a light bulb going off in his head, he smiled. It was the Devil’s smile. Smug and self-assured, evil. Small arcs of lightning crackled from his fingertips and leapt to my Son’s cheek.

“Jolt.”

“Now you remember?” Contempt leaked from his mouth. “Now you remember!? I was just a kid trying to get some clothes?” Anger flared in his eyes. “They sedated me for three months until they found a shot that would rob me of my powers. After that, it got worse. I was a soft kid in prison.”

I lifted a hand and took a step toward him.

“Don’t you move, you listen to me, you son of a bitch!” Ex-wife whimpered, son sobbed. “They passed me around like a piece of meat. Beat me, stuck me, raped me. Oh, I took it over and over again. It’s all your fault!” Red rage covered his tongue as he spoke. “I was just a kid trying to get clothes, look what you made me?! A killer!”

“I’m –I’m sorry, I didn’t..”

“Well you know now!” He cut me off, his temper rising, his eyes wide with death. “You’re never going to forget now! I killed your friend, your girlfriend, and now I’m going to kill your kid.” He pressed the blade tighter against my Son’s neck; blood trickled from a small cut.

“Hero’s” Story – Chapter 26

Back at work the next day, my boss was gone again. After work, I waited until dusk then decided to fly by his house and check up on him.

The lights were all off, the front door was unlocked. I opened it and poked my head in.

“Bill, you home? It’s me.” I heard a wet cough coming from the next room. My heart sank; I could feel what was coming next.

“Oh shit.” He was alive, barely. His face was blood and puss. Arms, legs and fingers all broken. Burn marks dotted his skin, torture, looked like he’d been electrocuted in a few places.

“Bill, who did this?” I knelt beside him.

He coughed blood and forced a smile. “So. Sorry. Lasted so… long..*hurk*gave... finally told him.”

My jaw dropped, this was about –

“You, tor-tortured till I told him about you.*kaff* Tried… to be hero… good like you.”

“Goddamnit, it’s my fault. I’m so sorry Bill.”

“Told… told him your name, just your name, so sorry-“ he coughed once more then closed his eyes and stopped. Stopped moving, breathing, living.

My phone rang. I chocked down the lump in my throat, it was my ex-wife calling.

“Yeah?” I answered.

“Da-Daddy?” My son, he sounded terrified.

“Buddy?”

A deep voice answered. “Come home, save him if you can.” Then laughter. Laughter coated with insanity. Laughter soaked in murder.

“Hero’s” Story – Chapter 25

I didn’t sleep, just flew around all night. I couldn’t go back to Julie’s house, didn’t want to risk the cops finding out who I was. After breaking the Fantastics out it was just too dangerous. Stopped some minor crime that night, but I couldn't focus.

I shouldn’t have called 911 from my cell phone, shouldn’t have left the roses, shouldn’t have walked through the blood. Fingerprints, footprints, my cell number, the police would come asking questions. None of it really mattered, Julie dead, I was alone. Besides, what prison could hold me?

Got home as the sun came up, watched some TV, showered, couldn’t sleep, I didn’t even try. I had to go to work, what day was it? Wednesday. Shit, I missed two days without calling in. At least the boss was on my side, he’d help cover for me.

I went into work a mess. Purple bags under my eyes, vision hazy, couldn’t focus. I had to act as normal as possible. Co-workers gave me a hard time, they made jokes about where I was.

“What happens in Vegas, right?” elbow nudge.

“So what? She keep you up,” pelvis thrusting “alllll niiight?”

“Anime convention?” Wink. “It’s cool lots of people are into Furries.”

I was not amused, “Grandmother died” was my excuse. At least it shut them up.

Boss was a no call, no show. Unusual for him and shitty, I could have used someone to talk to. Went straight to the bar after work, I should have been looking for her killer.

Seven beers and two shots later. “Who am I? Fuckin’ CSI? I’m no detective.” I said to no one.

The bartender cocked a brow, “Think you’ve had enough? You got a ride home pal?”

I scoffed, “Pssshh, I’ll fly.”

“Drunk asshole.” Bartender left me alone after that.

I left two beers later. Flew home, damaged an overpass and destroyed two billboards on the way. Flying drunk is harder than driving.

Fell asleep with my head in the toilet, puking and crying.