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11-22-2010, 12:50 PM | #1 |
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Location: Liverpool, Pennsylvania
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It was early morning and a steady rain was drumming against the window of the house in the quiet D.C. suburb near Alexandria. The house was bathed in shades of gray, as was the man who lay unmoving, yet awake beneath the sheets of the bed. He had not shaved in the last two days and his eyes were blood shot from lack of sleep that didn’t come from half a bottle of Johnny Walker.
Today was the funeral at Arlington. Full military regalia, a twenty-one gun salute and the haunting melody of taps echoing amid the gravestones was yet to come. Now, the scent of perfume from the untouched pillow next to him brought upon a rush of memories that sent a shudder through his entire body. Hours spent laying with her head on his chest on lazy Sunday mornings, the passionate love-making after returning home from long assignments or the gentle caress before falling asleep all played across his scotch addled brain. Groaning, he wiped his eyes as if to wipe away the images that his brain tortured him with. In truth, it was also to wipe away the tears that seemed well up when he remembered her. He willed himself to move, and his body reluctantly followed orders, just like a good solder. Her family was coming today. Damn, if that wasn't going to be hard. Sitting at the edge of the bed he reached for the half empty glass of scotch on the nightstand, the ice cubes having long melted away. The glass clinked against the barrel of the well-worn Army issue Beretta. The hammer was still cocked back from the night before and even thought it was unseen he knew there was a round chambered. It has been a particularly bad night. He swallowed the piss-warm scotch with purpose. More bad nights would come. Reaching back he touched his fingertips to her pillow .....(end) ________________________________________ *Takes place three days after Lady Jaye's death* Last edited by Flint071; 01-24-2011 at 07:20 PM.. |
11-22-2010, 12:53 PM | #2 |
Gary Goggles
Join Date: Apr 2009
Location: joedeclassified.com/forum/
Posts: 18,094
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mmm choose your own adventure...
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11-22-2010, 01:13 PM | #3 |
Merkin 4 the weekend!
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Location: Sac-BR0-mento, California
Posts: 2,303
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That's a great little piece of writing man. I really like it!
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11-22-2010, 01:16 PM | #4 |
Banned
Join Date: May 2010
Location: Cybertron, CA
Posts: 7,041
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... the Colonel, and his wee, beady eyes...
"You're going to buy my chicken!" |
11-22-2010, 01:36 PM | #5 |
Zombie Outbreak Survivor
Join Date: Sep 2008
Location: Doomstadt, Latveria R.I.
Posts: 3,192
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"Uuuh, Good God," thought Flint " How can I get through this horrible day in one piece?"
He dragged himself in a zombie like way to the crapper to get ready. Ready. What a ridiculous word. How could he ever be ready to go through this? PPPFFFsSSSHHH, the sound of the shave cream coming out of the can had more energy to it than he did. "Why", he tought, "why do I need to be at the funeral?" "What is it you really want to do Flint?", a voice came from inside his head. He knew he wasn't crazy, it's just something he did from time to time. And then he knew. He filled the bowl with piss, flushed and then poured another glass of scotch. He threw it down fast, grabbed his shotgun, beretta, and gear, and slammed the door behind him. 12 Noon: Funeral begins. Flint is officially A.W.O.L. 12:31PM: Flint is driving onto the landing field of an old friend. Several Hours later Flint lands in Eastern Europe, hides the plane, and begins his mission for revenge.
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11-22-2010, 04:30 PM | #6 |
Banned
Join Date: Oct 2008
Location: Liverpool, Pennsylvania
Posts: 12,546
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Quote:
"Uuuh, Good God," thought Flint " How can I get through this horrible day in one piece?"
He dragged himself in a zombie like way to the crapper to get ready. Ready. What a ridiculous word. How could he ever be ready to go through this? PPPFFFsSSSHHH, the sound of the shave cream coming out of the can had more energy to it than he did. "Why", he tought, "why do I need to be at the funeral?" "What is it you really want to do Flint?", a voice came from inside his head. He knew he wasn't crazy, it's just something he did from time to time. And then he knew. He filled the bowl with piss, flushed and then poured another glass of scotch. He threw it down fast, grabbed his shotgun, beretta, and gear, and slammed the door behind him. 12 Noon: Funeral begins. Flint is officially A.W.O.L. 12:31PM: Flint is driving onto the landing field of an old friend. Several Hours later Flint lands in Eastern Europe, hides the plane, and begins his mission for revenge. |
11-22-2010, 05:22 PM | #7 |
Banned
Join Date: Feb 2009
Location: North Jersey
Posts: 10,454
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That was pretty damn fantastic.
Great work...it actually made me feel like shit lol. |
11-22-2010, 06:15 PM | #8 |
Banned
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Location: Claremont, CA
Posts: 9,613
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Where is the part where Flint goes to a strip club and ends up banging two strippers at once to try to forget and/or see if he can still feel anything? Which, I assume, will be followed by the part where he pays a late night visit to Cover Girl because he just needed to "talk" to someone about the pain?
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laurenluna1977 |
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11-22-2010, 06:45 PM | #9 |
Banned
Join Date: Oct 2008
Location: Liverpool, Pennsylvania
Posts: 12,546
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Quote:
Where is the part where Flint goes to a strip club and ends up banging two strippers at once to try to forget and/or see if he can still feel anything? Which, I assume, will be followed by the part where he pays a late night visit to Cover Girl because he just needed to "talk" to someone about the pain?
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11-22-2010, 07:11 PM | #10 |
Banned
Join Date: Oct 2008
Location: Liverpool, Pennsylvania
Posts: 12,546
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The shower stung like hell. The scalding water cascaded over his body as he stood under the spay. He stood with his hands flat against the shower wall holding himself upright and his head bowed, eyes closed. Thick steam filled the bathroom clinging to the shower door and to the broken pieces of the vanity mirror that filled the sink. Blood trickled down the knuckles of his right hand, cutting a crimson path down the white tiles before swirling into the drain. A momentary loss of control and his fist had punched through the glass front medicine cabinet.
Even focusing on a simple task such as shaving seemed beyond his ability this morning. Flint stood looking at his reflection in the mirror, half his face covered in Barbasol and the razor in his hand, yet making no move to finish . The water from the faucet ran at full head, and the sound was somehow entrancing. He wasn’t sure how long he stared into his own reflection but suddenly he was disgusted and lonely and angry all at once. The mirror paid the price. He moved now completely unaware that he was doing so. He stood at the edge of the unmade bed looking at his dress uniform hanging down the back of the closet door, then to the Kevlar vest laying at the foot of the bed next to his pistol. Duke has insisted that he wear the vest to the funeral in light of recent events. Seemed as if everyone was feeling vulnerable. Flint picked up the body armor and allowed an amused smirk before tossing it to the back corner of the closet. This wasn’t arrogant bravado, as Flint was sometimes known for in his younger days. He simply did not care. |
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