Twisted Horror Stories by Matthew Tonks

Category: Bad Day

  • Day 289 – Bad Day – The Russian – Part Three – Short Story

    Day 289 – Bad Day – The Russian – Part Three – Short Story

    They all stare at his empty eyes, void of life, his mouth hanging open, and his tongue dangling from it. I don’t know how long it kept the room silent, a few second maybe, but, it felt longer. They just stared at The Bears’ severed head like it was the only thing in the room, and I was nothing, just a meaningless thing, that they would address at a later date.

    That later date wasn’t going to come for most of them, as the empty shells hit the polished concrete, by the way, who the fuck polishes concrete anyway?

    The first four boys at the table fall to the side, holes the size of breast implants gone wrong in their chests, Pam Anderson would have flash backs, shit, remember when she was all perk and pretty with her itty bittys? God, my motor turned back then.

    One of them makes a run at me, everything is playing out quicker than I gave it credit for, normally some son of a bitch will be telling you how everything slows the fuck down, and it’s like some fragmented movie reel playing in front of you, when really, you haven’t got time to even shake the snake, you just have to react. I grab him by the throat and drive a blade into his skull, he goes soft and limp like Johnny Holmes emptying his load over a young and frightened Linda Lovelace. The next guy connects with a haymaker, I feel my eye socket cave in, and everything goes blurry, he throws another and I move, sending one of my own up into his throat, he stumbles backwards and I send another into his balls. I know, who uses low blows? Hello fuckers, obviously I do, and it fucked him up. I know what you’re thinking, I probably crushed his windpipe with the first shot, but the low blow was kinda my way of say, hey, here’s something else to worry about than trying to breath.

    Two more come at me with lefts and rights, I block a couple with my skull, the rest with a few moves even Bruce would stand up and clap for, the room shat itself right there and then, or at least one of the Russian thugs did, because my nose started to sting, as the grotesque smell ripped up through my nostrils and down my throat. It spurred me on, and I found something in reserve, planted a nice solid right into shit head number one, and swung a mean left into shit head number two’s face, teeth, blood and cartridge ripped through his skin, he tried to scream but I planted another, and sent him to the ground, just in time to block, pivot and kick shit head number one to the ground. I did this fancy move, twisted my hips while I had my legs wrapped around his throat like some crazy gymnastic nymphomaniac, the sound his spine made as I snapped it in half was almost a turn on, if shit like that did it for me.

    Then, once again the room was silent, except for Old Man Galboldi, he was crouching behind his chair, in a puddle of his own urine, crying.

    This was going to be a quick conversation.

  • Day 288 – Bad Day – The Russian – Part Two – Short Story

    Day 288 – Bad Day – The Russian – Part Two – Short Story

    One hundred and seventy-two staples, three teeth, a small amount of blood in my urine, my left finger, three boxes of pain killers, three balls of coke, a copy of playboy playmate of the year, nineteen eighty-two edition, half a box of tissues, and seven Russian gangsters, all in all, a very packed thirteen hours, although, I left out the rash running down my right leg, it could’ve been there before all this started.

    My employer, Mister Killdone had pissed off some Russian mafia type characters, and they tried sending him a message, through my skull, it didn’t work out the way they planned, their hitman ended up colder than a Serbian outdoor orgy, where everyone relied on things not warming up, otherwise their dicks would thaw out and it would be like waving around silly string, minus the string, and emphasizing the silly.

    The guy who is slowly choking underneath the bar of my seat is known around the area as The Bear, mainly because he’s big, hairy, and likes girls with little hands, so his cock looks bigger than it is, he had albums of photos, some of the girls look underage, others, just look disgusted, but, obviously they needed something, and, he needed something in return.

    I smile as I down a glass of seven hundred dollar scotch and let it burn the back of my throat, I hear them coming, charging towards the back area, his face is pale, his eyes bulging from his head, fat fucker left before the fun began.

    The door crashes open and they come at me, the first collects friendly fire in the back of the head as one of the guys at the back gets excited and his gun goes off before we start, what I expect from inexperienced kids, I drive the palm of my hand up into the face of the next guy, the cartridge from his nose acts like a spear, and shoots up into his brain, he’s dead almost instantly, I use him as a shield, spinning around and firing six shots into the heads of the next two, leaving me and the early starter, he’s wiping bits and pieces of everyone else off him by the time I’m up in his face and pinning him to the wall.

    He screams, petrified, begging for me to let him live, he’s only doing this because the big moose has his family, he’s a good kid, he gave me great reasons.

    I asked him the one question I ask everyone who begs for me to spare them.

    “Do you personally know Shannon Tweed, and can you get me her autograph?”

    Kid looked at me like he had just been given the best blow job in his life and was blowing a gale, he didn’t have time to prepare himself, which was probably better for him, the knife was in and out, and he was lying in a pool of his own blood.

    This was a bust, The Bear knew shit, I needed a new plan, maybe something with bigger explosions, get all the rats to come running to me, instead of the other way around.

  • Day 287 – Bad Day – The Russian – Part One – Short Story

    Day 287 – Bad Day – The Russian – Part One – Short Story

    I taste the blood, spit a wad of it to the ground, and force myself to my feet. The  room spins, and he laughs, fucking piece of shit, if he didn’t smack me in the back of the head like a coward, this would be a fair fucking fight, shit, anything right now would be fair, but, when you can’t make heads or tails of the scenery, you either cop out, and join all those pieces of shit that have gone before, or you find that inner harmony, that sonar, and use it.

    Sadly, for this Russian piece of trash, my inner self and I had spent way too many moments like this together, so, I just close my eyes, clench my hands into fists, and let everything else do the talking.

    I feel his fist connect with my stomach a few moments too late, and the wind gets sucked out of me, okay, sure, I’m rusty, but give me a fucking break, it’s not exactly simple, fuck, even a bat or two hit something from time to time.

    He swings another one, I’m ready this time and duck, swivel, twist, turn, then swing one of my own haymakers, it connects, unfortunately with a fucking brick wall, and he’s on my back, driving several solid punches into my kidneys, piece of shit.

    He grips my hair and slams me into the wall face first, I feel my nose burst over my face, and then, everything shudders to a stop, I feel weightless, as I hit the ground, he drives a kick into my stomach, then another.

    And then, he stops, he’s going to gloat, I can feel it coming.

    His accent is pretty strong, and I can’t make out much of what he’s saying, but the jist I get from the shit I can understand. Apparently my employer Mister Killdone had screwed his boss out of a pretty big deal, and he wanted that fat fuck dead and buried, but first he wanted his operation hurt, seems they decided I was a good place to start.

    I started to laugh, and the big fucker pulls me up by my head and wraps one of his big meaty fucking hands around my throat like it’s a sausage fest and I’m knee deep in German bratwursts. I think he asked me what was so funny, but I can’t be sure, like I said, his accent was thick, and, he’d started choking on his own blood, courtesy of a six inch blade I’d stuck there.

    I crash into the ground followed seconds later by the big Russian son of a bitch, he’s on his knees next to me, coughing and spluttering, then, nothing, silence, as he hits the ground face first, I feel the warmth of his blood pool underneath me, and hope he doesn’t have anything I can catch, because I’m not moving for a while, not that I don’t want to, I just can’t.

    Seems like Killdone is going to owe me some overtime.

  • Day 227 – Bad Day – Christmas Wish – Part Four – Short Story

    Day 227 – Bad Day – Christmas Wish – Part Four – Short Story

    I fall to my knees, as the tears run down my face, somethings are worth what they are, while other things, well, they’re just worthless.

    He threw his first punch, and it connected with my stomach, winded the fuck out of me, I bent over, I couldn’t help it, leaving myself open for another punch, which he drove into the back of my head, I saw stars, hundreds of them, and fell to the floor in a heap.

    He proceeded to parade around the room, in front of his men, talking himself up, like the big man he was, I forced myself to my knees, focusing on the blood that was running from my mouth and pooling on the floor. He saw me and attacked, swinging his boot swiftly towards me, I think, at this point, I was so far gone I was running on something else, something that seemed to still have some sort of life. I swiped my leg, the good one, out quickly and upended him, bringing him down to meet me, where I quickly locked in a vice grip, around his throat and pulled back for all I was worth, he struggled, and his men, who had now stopped screaming in cheer, feel silent, I fought through the pain, the agony, as he tore at me, trying to free himself, but, I didn’t let go.

    Then, gun shots, I closed my eyes tightly, but they weren’t firing at me, in fact, none of them were firing, it seems Kildone had sent for reinforcements. I felt his neck crack underneath my grip, and he stopped fighting me, falling limp in my arms, as I laid there. I don’t know how long we were like that, but I held onto him tightly the entire time, just in case he wasn’t all the way gone.

    That’s when he told me to let go, it was over, I’d done what I’d set out to do, it was time to go, before to cops arrived. I fell backwards, onto the floor, trying to catch my breath, I felt arms grab me, and pull me to my feet. Are you okay? Was constantly asked, but I couldn’t answer, I tried, I swear I did, but nothing came out, then I heard her, she cried, and I felt her grab me, tightly.

    Go, before I change my mind, he said, I stood there, half expecting something else to be said, but he repeated himself, telling me to go, as I took a step forward, he spoke again. This time, he asked me to remember this, that one day, he’ll come ask me for one last favour, one last job, and when he did, he expected me to say yes, I nodded, I mean what else was I supposed to do, the fucker just save my life, well, I guess he did, or something like that, none of it mattered anyway.

    As I made my way slowly past him, I turned as I was in the doorway, and our eyes met, I said Merry Christmas, and he smiled, that fat fuck, then laughed, like his belly was made of jelly.

    END

  • Day 226 – Bad Day – Christmas Wish – Part Three – Short Story

    Day 226 – Bad Day – Christmas Wish – Part Three – Short Story

    I spat a mouthful of blood out onto the floor, in front of him, and raised my weary fists again, this was it, everything came down to this, just me and him.

    They attacked like ants, coming from every angle, I could see now, why Kildone feared him, why everyone did, he was a strategist, and played big hands only. I went into instinct mode, so did Kildone, he ran, like the fat fucking worm that he was, with her, as his bargaining chip. He knew as long as he had her, I would make sure he was safe, and he was right. They poured up the stairs, firing, attacking, and so did I, they were careless, not trained, just thugs with guns, so I used my skill, one that had taken me years to master, and picked them off, one by one. The stairs soon became clogged with their bodies, I could hear cries, screams, calling for a god to save them, to answer their prayers, he wasn’t listing, but I was. As the blood trickled down my face, I felt above them all, ripping the pin from the grenade, and tossing it towards them, their screams called out one last time, as it exploded, vaporizing them, and half the floor as well. I lost my footing, and hit the floor below with a thud, I knew my leg snapped, fuck, I was fresh out of luck, but, I knew Kildone had made his getaway, and hoped he would keep his end and make sure she was safe.

    I tried to catch my breath, which was a mistake, I knew it was, and the cold steel that pressed against my head re-affirmed that though, I moved swiftly, gave him a goodnight kiss and found myself staring down the barrel of another twelve, and he stood there, laughing.

    He offered me a hand up, and said he was sorry he lied, but, a weapon must be used to its full potential, and he had done that. I rejected the hand and told him to do it, finish me off, I was sick of his words. He laughed again, and said he liked me, I was stubborn and skilled, but, very much dead, so why not make it fun. While the fire fight continued, he started to tell me how, when he was younger, he was a champion fighter, undefeated, and, knew of my past, my fighting history, seems he wanted to class up the place, and put on a show, and give me a fighting chance. I coughed up some blood, told him I wasn’t in any condition to fight, so he should just put a bullet in my head, he shook his, bent down, smiled, and grabbed me by the throat, lifted me to my feet, released his grip and walked away.

    I rocked there, uneasily on my feet, while he took off his rings, his jewellery, his hat and coat, preparing himself for the fight. I muttered something that I was pretty sure fell on deaf ears, because he turned back to me, smiling, and said, ding, ding.

  • Day 225 – Bad Day – Christmas Wish – Part Two – Short Story

    Day 225 – Bad Day – Christmas Wish – Part Two – Short Story

    Fucking bastard tricked me, I knew I never should’ve trusted him to do the right thing.

    Big Poppa Stan had me in a tricky place, he had my woman, the soon to be mother of my unborn child, but Kildone, I owed everything to, he had taken me in, made me into something, and now, I had to choose.

    To be honest, it wasn’t hard, I knew what I wanted to do, where my life was heading, and Kildone wasn’t a part of it. I gathered my things, and headed towards the tower, staring up at it, in a different light, it was my home once, and now, I had to destroy it.

    Jimmy was on the door, as always, the look he gave me was one of surprise, shock even, I shuffled my busted arse in and headed towards the service elevator, normally I’d take the stairs, but I was fucked, and needed a rest. The ride was short, and Franco was waiting for me at the top. We’d grown up together, he was like me, pulled off the streets and given a life by Kildone, where I’d been more equipped to handle any problem, Franco, he was Kildone’s shadow, and someone you didn’t want to mess with.

    He told me Kildone was not to be disturbed, and, if I’d done what he wanted, then my debt was paid, the look he gave me sent a shiver down my back, he thought I was ungrateful of what Kildone had done for me, and I could tell, he didn’t want to leave it just there. So I gave him his shot, I fired a weak arsed left into his throat, the look on his face told me he wasn’t expecting it, the second landed in his groin, and I finished it up with a head-butt, that sent him to the floor. I think it was the shock more than any of the impacts that left his laying there, blurry eyed and out of sorts, but it didn’t last long, he scrambled to him feet and dived towards me. I should’ve tried to talk to him, he was like my brother, he would’ve understood, I know he would’ve. Instead I drove the blade up, through the underneath of his chin, I could tell it had found its mark by the wide eyed look he gave me, as his brain tried to make sense of what had just happened, then, he dropped to the floor, dead.

    I burst through the door of Kildone’s suite, and saw he was ready for me, he had her, I could tell by the look on her face, he’d told her everything, not that she didn’t know what I did, but, we never really discussed it in great detail. He looked around me, towards Franco’s lifeless body, and then back to me and shook his head.

    What he said to me, the words he used, made me realise, made me see, that there wasn’t really a way out, that I couldn’t do anything other than what I’d been trained to do, he said my debt was still outstanding, and, if I valued the life of my woman, I would do what he asked, if not, he would kill me, and she, well, she would become his number one whore.

    I felt like everything was in repeat, hadn’t I already done this? Wasn’t this what I was trying to stop? That’s when the explosion happened, downstairs, Big Poppa Stan knew I’d find out the truth, he used me as a diversion, and was now coming to claim his prize for himself.

    Not on my watch, not today.

  • Day 224 – Bad Day – Christmas Wish – Part One – Short Story

    Day 224 – Bad Day – Christmas Wish – Part One – Short Story

    I feel it hit me, the pain, everything, it’s not what I thought it was going to be, this job, it’s my last, but, it may not be because of the reasons I want it to be.

    Three days ago, Kildone came to me, he wanted a big fish removed, and I told him, after this, I was done. He didn’t take it well, but said he understood, after all, it was almost Christmas, and he’d let me go, if I gave him one last gift. What he didn’t know was I’d just found out I was going to become a dad, it’s a big thing to someone like me, who’s never had anyone else to worry about, anyone, to look up at me and see a role model. So, I decided, this was it.

    I went to work, like I always have, concentrated on the target, did all the homework I could, to make sure nothing went wrong. They called him Big Poppa Stan, local thug who’d worked his way up to the head of the Mariatzi family, small time hoods, who had their eyes somewhere else, on bigger things, Kildone’s things.

    For most of my life I’d worked for Kildone, he took me in, off the streets, taught me all I knew, and, as we both found out, I was a fast learner.

    I worked my way into Stan’s fortress, I say fortress, but I really mean the back end of Charlotte town, he’d evicted most of the residents and set up a small citadel of his own, where if you didn’t bow down to him, you were made an example of. I packed light, too light I started to think, seems his thugs were everywhere, I hadn’t even really set foot into his world and I was thin on supplies, but, I knew how to improvise, and his goons had enough weaponry, that I was able to pick  and choose from their toys.

    It wasn’t until I took a hit to the shoulder, and went down, that I realised I was in a lot more trouble than I originally thought. It stung, I’d been shot before, heaps of times in fact, but this was different, this fucking hurt, and burnt like a mother-fucker. I realised the prick had his men lace the insides of their cartridges with acid, to add a little extra to the punch, and I knew, from then on in, I couldn’t take another hit.

    I attacked, the element of surprise was gone, and they came out of every nook and cranny, guns blazing, but I knew, for the sake of my family, I had to do this, I had to make sure Kildone was out of my hair, for good, so I worked my way in, like a tick. Four of them hit the floor as I wasted the last of my bullets, and it was hand to hand, until I got close enough to a weapon. Twelve hours, eighty seven dead, and I had four nice holes in my hide, that kept growing. That’s when I saw him, in the flesh, not just a photo, he seemed, less human, and more like some kind of deranged horror character from some b grade movie, I could see why they all feared him now, because I sure as hell did.

    I felt it hit the back of my head, and then darkness grabbed me, when I opened my sore fucking eyes, he was sitting in a chair, made of bones, fucking theatrics were high here, he knew who I was, heard many great things, and wanted to make a deal. I told him I’m not that sort of guy, and he smiled, the fucker, he said my woman, the one who was going to birth my seed into this world was his, and if I didn’t he would make sure her, and my unborn would suffer at his hands, knowing that it was I who cursed their existence. Fucker had me in a tight spot, so, I did what anyone would do, I asked him what the fuck he wanted, and he said the word I knew he’d say.

    He wanted Kildone.

  • Day 152 – Bad Day VI Get God – Short Story

    Day 152 – Bad Day VI Get God – Short Story

    What’s life if you don’t break a few dozen eggs, of course when I say eggs, I mean whatever piece of shit comes your way, when, if they had any sense, they would’ve crossed the road, or ran like fuck the other way. You see, my whole life was about busting and breaking, making those who broke deals, pay. Sometimes, they paid with their lives, other times, they just paid, it was a simple job, and I was good at it, real fucking good. But, near the end, when I wasn’t expecting it, I had a change in lifestyle, a second chance at making something worthwhile, a family, a future, one without needing to beat, torture or kill another human being. That was of course until my past came back and took it all from me, ruined everything, forced me back into the world I left behind.

    So as you can imagine, I hit back, killed my past, literally, and as it ended up, myself as well, but, it would turn out, nothing stopped after all the light was ripped away.

    I was taken in by a new lord and master, who offered a new job, one that was almost the same as my last, but this time, I had a deal, a contract signed in blood, one that would give me the chance to get everything I lost back. But once again I was screwed over, difference is, this time, I held a card, a way out, and I exploited it. Maybe a little too much, but, I did everything I could to make sure everyone who fucked with my life and the lives of my family suffered.

    I remember reading once about how the Indians and other warrior tribes used to eat the body of their enemies and fallen comrades, so they could, in a way, absorb their power, keep their strength within the tribe. Kind of like recycling tin cans and shit, we’re told it’s possible, but we know it’s really bullshit. But anyway, don’t start judging me for this, because I know it’s just plain insane, to think that eating someone would give you their strengths and powers, it’s just mad, right? So I’ll be fucked if I can say why I did it, I just stuffed so much of that piece of shit in my mouth and swallowed it down that I didn’t allow myself time to comprehend what was really going on. Or, what I was trying to achieve, by the end of it all I felt over full, a little cramped even, but, as it turned out, not all that powerful, unless you call a violent attack of the shits a power.

    Fast forward to five minutes ago, I’m standing at the gates of heaven, yup, you read right, the pearly fucking gates, and he walks out, looking all, well, mighty. I came here with the intent on killing this piece of shit, and he knew it, I could tell. I expected him to though, if he was truly all seeing, he’d know what I know, he’d be waiting, ready to zap me into nothing, if he could really do that, not that I cared if he could or not.

    “So you’re the guy,” I said.

    “I’m much more than that, I’m above what you refer to as gender, I am ..”

    “Great, not really here for this conversation sparky, you made a deal with too cool for school over my soul, and you traded my family as part of the deal, I’m here to tell you the deals not going to happen. So, you pack your bags and leave for somewhere warmer and let my family back in.”

    He laughed, “Once a deal is made it cannot be altered or withdrawn, a deal is a deal, you of all people know this, you of all people should under….”

    “This one is, you push, I’ll push back, I respect what you created, what you’ve supposedly done, so I’ll give you a second chance at doing the right thing.”

    He laughed again, fucking son of a bitch, he’s enjoying this, I could tell, and I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s all hard underneath the sheet, yeah, you heard right, cock sucker is dressed like some frat boy at a toga party, what a queen.

    “The deal is done, regardless of your disagreement, and keeping Kildone alive will not prevent it from happening, I’ll kill him myself if I have to, but you will be mine, and your family will be his.”

    I’ll be honest I’m embarrassed about this part, you see, I lost my shit right at that point, I told the snotty nosed religious nut that my family deserved to be happy, peaceful, not subjected to whatever shit happens wherever the fuck they are. He told me to shut up, and understand who the true master is. It was my turn to laugh, I was quick and he was surprised, I placed two bullets in his head before he reacted, the bullets did nothing of course, but I didn’t expect them to, and with a click of his fingers I exploded like an egg hitting some fools front door on Halloween. Now, I’ve got to tell you, he was surprised when I showed right back up and dug the knife carved from bone into his skull, it didn’t kill him, but I could tell it fucking hurt, especially when he found out I’d carved the knife from his brother’s bones.

    It about that time, when I proceeded to tell him how I’d eaten his brother while he was still alive, and how through some crazy, misguided idea I’d gained all his strengths, all his powers, but more importantly, I’d gained an immunity from him. I told him I know all about the deals he’s been making with his brother, trading souls for warriors. Seems the way souls move around in the afterlife is nothing like we’re told, souls are more like money, and some are better at turning their money into something more than just a few dollars, old God here is a spinster, no skill, a penny is a penny regardless of how long the old fool holds onto it. So, here, you either go to heaven where you live an existence of peace or you go to hell, where you are subjected to an existence of rebirth through torture and damnation. Seems God here isn’t as all powerful as he likes to think, with his inability to convert, refashion, or reshape his souls, they remain weak, and basically, useless. Where his brother, the devil, he gets to mould souls into a shape with substance, with power, something God needs. You see, for the last few thousand years he’s been in some shit arse war with other self-proclaimed gods, who are all vying for an ample piece of the soul super highway. The battle has raged on for longer than any of them can remember and in the process old God here has lost his choir of angels. Now, only having a handful left, and they’re off fighting for the cause, in the trenches of a world between worlds. Which is half the reason I knew I could walk in like I did, the old fuck’s defenceless, and soon, will fall to one of these up and coming nut cases who think they’re a God, just like he does, or did, or, whatever. That’s when he offers me a deal, help him and he’ll free my family from purgatory where they’re currently sitting, waiting for my deal to be fulfilled. I know the lunatic’s lying through his teeth, the only way he can get them back is if my deal falls through, and the only way that can happen is if I run out of time to kill that fat fuck Kildone, and with a little under twenty years left on the clock I make a choice.

    Kildone will be fine in his hole for that amount of time, so, I figure what have I got to loose, let’s make all religions my bitch, one God at a time.

     

    THE DEFINITE END

  • Day 138 – Bad Day V Bastard – Short Story

    Day 138 – Bad Day V Bastard – Short Story

    I snap the fucker’s finger, and pull the meaty, stubbly thing right off his hand and toss it onto the floor with the rest of them, he doesn’t scream anymore, the fuckers all out of screams now, but it doesn’t take away my enjoyment. He told me a heap of shit, more than I cared to know, all I really wanted was one name, the one who was behind all of it, seemed he thought I was grilling him for every other bit of information he ever knew, and couldn’t understand why I didn’t care. I cared, just not for what he had to say once he told me what I wanted to know, but I wasn’t going to let it end there, I wanted to make him remember this, and because he wasn’t like a normal person, he couldn’t die, meant I had more fucking fun with him.

    Getting here was half the fun, getting to this moment, I still remember the look on Kildone’s face when he first saw me was priceless, he started spewing shit about how I should have stayed down there, how he was more powerful than I realised and soon he would be dining on my nuts, fat fuck didn’t expect me to be packing extra juice, he knew I was working for the devil, but he didn’t realise I was actually fucking enjoying it. I broke his neck then all fourteen of his ribs so the fucker made a sucking, wheezing sound every time he took a breath, I laughed so hard for a while before I broke the remaining ten ribs and both the fuckers legs, and then force fed him his balls and cock, shoved them in his mouth and made him chew, he cried for a while after that and then I started playing skin the fat fuck, but I just used my finger nails and ripped the skin off him that way. I didn’t realise until that moment how much rage I had built up inside and how much I wanted to make that fat fuck pay for everything he did to me. For thirty nine hours I played with him, just ripping a piece off here and there to remind him that I was still here, and then he stopped sobbing, stopped screaming and just sat there in his piss, shit and blood like I had a few months before, and then he looked up at me through his one good eye and smiled. I so wanted to wipe that fucking smile off his face, but I also wanted to know why, so I asked him, I mean there wasn’t much more pain I could cause him and he knew I’d eventually have my fill and just off him, so I sat down, offered him a smoke and asked the fat fuck what was so funny. He said I was and idiot, I drove my boot right into his nose, spread it across his face like a pancake and asked again. He said the devil was using me as his bitch, I ripped off his left ear and yelled into it that I was well away of that, he coughed and spluttered a bit and then after a fifteen minute wheezing fit, where he struggled to breathe, he told me the devil was a deceitful son of a bitch, his word was a lie and his contracts weren’t worth a piece of shit and I should prepare my arsehole for a hard fucking. I told him I didn’t care about no contract, this was about something else, this was about me making sure his fat fucking arse was taken care of permanently. He laughed and coughed up some sort of black mucous and had another twenty minute wheezing fit before he dropped the last dime. He said my signing the contract with the devil would leave my wife and kid stuck in hell, in my place. Apparently I didn’t go straight down stairs, I had just sort of drifted in the middle for a few months while they fought over me, seems the deal I made with the devil was a major trading card for him in his battle with upstairs, heaven and hell both wanted me and I signed to play for hell, so heaven paid some massive dollars to get him to sign me over to them. Part of the deal was my family, I was played, again, but I still had an ace up my sleeve, that fat fuck Kildone. My contract was done once that fat fuck went into the whatever after all this, so I buried him in a wide fucking hole and told him once I was done, I’d be seeing him again. And that’s how I ended up here, dismantling the devil, looking for a name, he gave it to me all right, he gave me the one who put my family on the plate, so I made the devil a new deal, one he couldn’t refuse, because he had no choice, he may be the king of lies but I’m the fucking king of pain. So now I’m off to kill the fuck who put my family in the pressure cooker, now, now I’m off to kill God.

     

    NOT THE END

  • Day 126 – Bad Day IV From Below – Short Story

    Day 126 – Bad Day IV From Below – Short Story

    When the grenade went off I thought it was all over, but I was satisfied that taking Kildone, that fat fucking prick with me was a choice thing to do, fucked if I’d be going down there on my own. The grenade ripped through the fat fuck like a water balloon hitting its target, he just burst, and then it tore into me, the pain only lasted a second and then it was all over, things were a blur of nothingness for a while and then suddenly he was standing there, in the dark, looking all schmick and cashed up. He smiled and his dirty fucking teeth gleamed in the darkness like neon lights above a whore house, and he offered me a deal, said a man like me, with my skills would be useful to his establishment. I told the stupid fuck that he could go suck his own cock if he had one, and if not, to grow one and suck it, I was done with the shit that got to me down here, so he could just forget it and just throw me on the punishment train and I’ll take my lickings. He laughed and said that’s not the sort of answer he likes to hear, and then offered me a deal that he said I couldn’t refused. I told him to fuck himself again, this time with toys. He laughed again and said if I work for him for twenty years, and to trust him when he said this, that twenty years go quick down here, he would help facilitate my transfer upstairs, when I could be with my family. I’ve never been one to believe in heaven or hell, but to know my family earned their place upstairs made me smile. I told him I can smell bullshit a mile away and he’s full of it, after all isn’t he the king of lies. He took that remark badly and my whole body was one big ball of pain, he talked trash for a while before he laid a contract out in front of me and said it was bound and signed by upstairs themselves, he made the remark that he wasn’t the only interested in my skills. I still told him to go shove it, and that’s when he said it, that’s when he had my undivided attention. It seems that piece of shit Kildone had orchestrated a break out and he and a few hundred of Hell’s finest had made their way back to the middle ground as he called it. He said he’d give me whatever I wanted as long as I removed each of the souls from existence, permanently, but he didn’t need to continue crapping on, I had signed the contract right after he mentioned Kildone’s name.

    So, that’s how I ended back up here, tracking down the Lord of Hell’s escaped convicts, and his twenty years, what a joke, it’s taking me three weeks to wipe out two hundred and seventy-six of the stupid fucks, I’ll only need another week if that. You see, Kildone, he’s a good talker, but it’s always the vomit of society who listen, like the vermin he surrounded himself with from down there, the scum who escaped with him, pieces of trash, like kiddie fiddlers, rapists, murders and small time fuck heads, these guys were nothing, not against me and especially not against a juiced up to the max version of me. So now, there’s only a handful of them left, and Kildone is one of them, I’m saving him for last, and he knows it, because this time, when I have him, he ain’t coming back, that, I’ll make sure of.

     

    TO BE CONTINUED

  • Day 61 – Bad Day III – The Final Day – Short Story

    Day 61 – Bad Day III – The Final Day – Short Story

    The pain is fucking terrible, I spit out blood, great, just how I felt like dying, sitting in my own piss, shit and blood. That fat fuck is gloating, dancing around like the big man he thinks he is, but he’s just a fat fuck. And fat fucks like Kildone always get what’s coming to them, even if I have to drag myself out of hell to do it. I did his dirty work, he screwed me over and so I came for him, and he ran and hid, surrounded himself with hired muscle, who folded quickly when I stuck my gun in there spleens. But when it got down to me and Kildone he managed to fire first, the fat fuck, I waited too long, had too much emotion tied up in it all, one if those fucking timing moments, too old and rusty for this shit. I took a shot in the shoulder and I dropped two in his arm. That’s when he show up, fucking fat son of bitch was desperate enough to call him. The bastard knocked me to the ground with a powerful punch in the side, when I say powerful, I mean it was like a freight train, I must have flown at least ten feet in the air. He started talking bullshit about how he’d been waiting so long for this, since I took his eye out ten years ago and ruined his life, his life was a waste of fucking space before that. They used to call him a lot of cool names before that, apparently, now they just called him old one eye. He came at me again and stomped down on my left leg, breaking it, actually the fucker probably shattered it. I grabbed him by the balls, because I could reach it, and I squeezed, he bent down in pain and I drove a finger right into his good eye and scooped it out like scooping the inside of a hard boiled egg. He screamed in pain and I grabbed him by his out of date mohawk and drove his head into the wall several times until he crashed to the ground and then I snapped the fucking pricks neck. And that’s when Kildone made he move and fired two shots into my chest, fucking fat fuck. He laughed, and started crapping on about how it was time to retire me for good, too many secrets and all that bullshit I needed to take to my grave with me.

    I brought up the fact that he was the one that showed up on my door and made me do his dirty work because his dick was too small to get it done, he shot me another two times in the gut, fucker was enjoying this. Now he started to thank me for getting rid of Townsend and actually said he was sorry my family got caught in the cross fire, like fuck he was, fat fuck.

    And so now, here I sit, or lie, whatever makes you happy picturing, with holes the size of golf balls in me, and a coldness rushing over my body, staring into the barrel of Kildone pistol and he’s standing there with his slimy, fat, fucking face smiling. But you know what? Fuck it, that fat fuck Kildone ain’t going to walk away either, so I smile back and I see the sudden fear on his face as I release the grenade that I’ve been holding onto tightly for the last five minutes and it tumbled towards him, stopping between his fat fucking legs, and he looks at me again as the grenade deton……

     

    END

  • Day 53 – Bad Day II The Goodnight Kiss- Short Story

    Day 53 – Bad Day II The Goodnight Kiss- Short Story

    Kildone is a fucking piece of shit, that’s what he is, I knew I should’ve just put a bullet in his head then and there instead of trusting he would uphold his part of the deal that night. I mean, look at the fat fuck, thinking he has this won. Sure, I’ve seen better days, I’ll admit that, but he’s the guy who hires people like me to do his dirty shit, because he’s got no backbone for this sort of shit, and now I’ve come home to pay him back tenfold.

    When I got to the house I knew in my gut straight away that they were dead, I knew the slimy piece of shit had more than likely done it as soon as he knew I’d taken down Townsend, but I’d hoped I was wrong. I saw the blood before I saw the bodies, both of them wouldn’t have known what was happening, Kildone, that fat fuck, is going to pay, but I had to deal with the three fucks he left waiting for me first. I knew I wasn’t alone, I knew he wasn’t stupid enough to leave me breathing, but at the same time I knew he would want me to see them first before his boys did the job, he likes that sort of shit, but grief does many thing to a man and right then I just wanted to cry. When the cold steel of the barrel pressed against the back of my head it pulled me back to reality quickly, and the fucker started to say something which would’ve ended in shit about this not being personal, a line I’d used many times when I was working clean up. But I didn’t give him the chance as I fired two shots through my shoulder into his head. The other two didn’t know what was happening and left themselves wide open for a goodnight kiss, which I was more than happy to do. I searched the bodies and found a throw away and dialled the only number in the phone, classic fat fuck style.

    “Is it taken care of?” He said, that slimy fat fuck, what an absolute piece of shit.

    “They’re taken care of and you’re next you piece of filth,” I said back.

    “It doesn’t need to be like this, none of this was personal, why don’t you come back to the fold, you always were the best, but I’ll tell this, if you come for me I’ll bury you with your family!”

    “You’re demented, you kill my family and think I’ll come back and work for you, the only thing I’m going to do for you is shove my fist up your mother fucking arse!” I yelled as I threw the phone to the ground, kissed my family goodbye and went to work tracking the fat fuck down. Two weeks it took me, two long, sleepless, soulless, haunted weeks until I found where the fucker was hiding and tonight I’m going to make sure my family can finally be at rest after I take my pound of flesh from his fat arse. The compound he set himself up in was way off the grid, he’d even hired a street gang called the Medusas Circle to cover his arse, fucking small change wanna be kingpins, it took me all of five minutes to work them over and send them running, leaving Kildone to me.

    So, now, as I stand in this doorway, facing that fat fuck Kildone, both of us with guns drawn, I can’t help but think, who’s going to fire first? Me, or the dead man?

    TO BE CONTINUED

  • Day 39 – Bad Day – Short Story

    Day 39 – Bad Day – Short Story

    I guess you could say timing is everything, or nothing, really I guess it’s relative to what you want it to be, for me it’s nothing but frustration at its highest level. I’m going off on a tangent here I know but when you miss an opportunity because your timings off it causes more hell than it’s worth. Take this moment for example, three seconds ago I dived out a window, unfortunately for me the window happened to be on the twenty-second level of this stupidly fucking high building, I mean why the fuck do buildings keep getting so high? I guess right now you’re asking why? It’s a good question and I have the perfect answer, but you’re not going to like it, because it’ll make you look at me differently, and you’ll see my perfect exterior is not as perfect as I like to make it out to be. Now I’ve had my share of problems, we all do, but mine led me here, falling uncontrollably towards the ground with nothing but a huge chunk of flesh protecting me. I thought I’d be able to make amends for the shit I’d done, I thought that part of my life I thought was behind me, but it wasn’t. Not thanks to Reggie Kildone, who burst into my house four hours ago and held my wife and son at gun point while he dictated to me how the next twenty-four hours was going to go. Apparently Kildone had a problem with some up and coming mobster by the name of Davie Townsend, Townsend and his crew had been muscling in on Kildone’s turf for the last few months, and it had started hurting him. He of course fought back and both sides from what I’m to understand lost numbers, but Kildone was the biggest looser, shame it wasn’t in the waste line, and was forced to flee underground, and Townsend and his men took over his high rise.

    So where the hell do I fit into all this you ask? You see, for about twenty years I was Kildone’s cleaner, the man he sent in to do his dirty work. But five years ago I walked out when I found out my wife was pregnant, I changed a lot of things in my life right around then. I made good choices, took a real job, worked hard and made it my mission to provide for my family and be a good father. I was doing well until he showed up.

    Kildone wanted me to remove Townsend from the equation, otherwise he would remove my family, I felt stuck, I wanted to kill the fat fucker, but his heavies made it hard and I didn’t want to risk Mary or Jonathan’s life, so I agreed to his terms, I would remove Townsend and he would then fuck off from my life forever, he agreed and I secretly agreed to myself to put a bullet in that fat fucks head as soon as it was all over. I guess the fall from twenty-five stories may interfere with that, but if I survive, he’s going to eat my fist.

    Anyway, I got my shit out of storage, never really wanted to part with it, even though I needed to, and went to Kildone’s old high-rise. Townsend’s men were heavy on the exterior, I guess war does that to you. And the man himself was inside, with whatever whores he could manage to fit. I didn’t know the boys at the door and they didn’t know me, so I thought maybe I could get through, they weren’t buying it, three short manoeuvres later and I was walking through the doors and his boys were taking a long nap. I had to be quick, the stairs were the best option, so I took them. What a fucking mistake, twenty-five fucking flights of stairs, yeah, years ago I would have been able to handle them, but today, now, I was fucked, so I took a rest, STUPID FUCKING MISTAKE. The door to the stairs crashed open and six of Townsend’s thugs came storming out and it was on, I took a few hits, but these boys were street thugs, they fought with their fists, I on the other hand fought with guns, and soon I was standing in the stairwell, covered in blood and brains. I didn’t wait around this time and stormed through the door, and as expected they started to open fire, the slightly overweight thug’s body I brought with me through the doorway acted as good protection, not excellent, but good, a shot or two got through, but I kept on moving, I had made my mind up even before I got here that this was going to be quick, I ran though the center room and headed for the window tossing the bag towards them as I went, for a moment the gun-fire stopped as I went crashing out of the window. They must have realised something was wrong as it never started up again, but that could also be because the pack took the top off the building, and here’s me, gripping as tightly as I can to the fat fucking thug, waiting for the ground to meet us, and it does, with a watery embrace. As I climb out of the pool I can’t help thinking, I’m going to kill that fat fuck Kildone.

     

    TO BE CONTINUED