Short Story

Day 108 – The Bag – Short Story

He grabs the bag and rushes out the door, diving into the car and slamming the door behind him, “Fucking go, NOW!” he yells as three men run out of the building behind him and the car screeches off, fish tailing its way out onto the street, gun fire erupts behind them and bullets rip into the side of the car.

“What the fuck is going on Wheat?”

“What’s it look like, we’re getting the fuck out of here and we’re not going to stop until we’re all the way across the other side of the planet, where they can’t get to us.”

“What the fuck, Tyron and his crew won’t let you get that far, what the fuck did you do?”

“I did it, I had to, I couldn’t let them do it, not while I could stop them.”

“Shit, are you crazy, you know Tyron will want it back?”

“Tyron’s going to do nothing, I put a bullet in his head, he’s history!” The car comes to a screeching stop and he leans over to the back seat.

“You fucking killed Tyron?”

“Dead centre, fucker never saw it coming, was too busy enjoying get his dick sucked to expect a bullet in his skull.”

“You’re fucking crazy, ain’t no one going to let you get away now they’re going to be all over us, fuck, Wheat, I don’t know if I want to be part of this, it’s just not what I signed on for. I only said I’d pick you up, I never said I was going to be party to you killing Tyron, man this ain’t good, his brother is going to be mighty pissed, mighty pissed and he’s someone you don’t want to piss off.”

“He’s dead too, second bullet went in his head, and the third went into the hooker they were double teaming.”

“You fucking killed King Tut? Are you mother fucking insane?”

“Dude, I had to, I had to get it from them, it was all I could think about man, please, keep driving, I’ll cut you in, I swear.”

He sits there for a few moments, as the sweat runs down his brow, “Show me this fucking thing that’s got you all hot and bothered?” he says, Wheat opens the bag up and shows him the contents, he looks at it and his mouth drops.


“I know, right, see why they couldn’t have it!”

“Give it to me!” he says as he points a gun over the top of the seat.

“What the fuck Tilly? It’s me, we’re like brothers!”

“Give me the motherfucking bag Wheat or I’ll take it from your dead hands!”

“I ain’t giving you the motherfucking bag, it’s mine, dude, I’ll share whatever…” Tilly fires three shots into Wheats head and leaps out of the car and tosses his body to the ground, grabbing the bag from the back seat as Tyron’s crew come to a screeching halt behind him. They leap out with guns drawn and Tilly raises his hands in the air, still clutching to the bag.

Morse, Tyron’s right hand man storms over to where Tilly stands and grabs the bag, but Tilly refuses to let it go.

“Let go of the bag fat man, and we’ll be square,” he growls as he yanks at the bag, but Tilly still refuses to let it go.

“I-I-I-I can’t.”

“What, you a stuttering motherfucker? Let go of the bag!” he yells as he places a gun at his head, sweat pours down Tilly’s brow as he looks at the bag and then at Morse, and a tear runs down his check as Morse fires the gun then storms back to the awaiting black SUV’s with the bag, firmly in his grasp.

“Let’s go,” he says as he climbs into the back, quickly followed by several other men.

“What’s in the bag?” one of them asks, Morse quickly pulls his gun out and fires a shot dead centre into his head.

“None of your god damn business,” he yells, and looks around the cabin. “Any other motherfuckers want to know shit that’s got nothing to do with them?” everyone remains silent. “Good, now let’s get the fuck out of here!”



7 replies on “Day 108 – The Bag – Short Story”

It’s the perfect MacGuffin, it’s integral to the story, but really, the real story is about the human condition. How sometimes choices are made for us by our actions before and of course how easy we are swayed by something so simple, like *language violation* in a bag 👍


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