Oh No Sweetheart

This is a scene I’ve had in my head for months. Finally one day when I had no internet I wrote the scene out (even though I had at least two tendinitis’ issues going on – yeah it was a bitch). Hope y’all enjoy!

xXx

“I’m not telling you anything else.”

As the woman tried to walk by, it seemed like she would be free to go – at first. But before she could it past the other woman, a hand shot forward grabbing her by the throat.

“Oh now sweetheart,” Eve murmured.

The grip on Mary’s throat tightened before she was shoved backwards. Mary stumbled tripping over herself as she was moved forcibly.

Mary gasped, the air torn from her lungs as she was slammed into the wall. Spider cracks appeared like a halo in the wall behind her head as pain exploded throughout her body.

The hand on Mary’s throat moved upwards, fingers now grasping and digging into her jaw as the heel of Eve’s hand pressed into her throat. Mary choked as she reached up to grab at the hand that effectively had her pinned by the throat.

Mary’s head was forcibly turned to face Eve.

Totally black eyes with gold irises stared at Mary as a smirk, a cold promising smirk came over Eve’s face.

“We’re just getting started.”

Remy Gutherie – Interrogation

Here’s the third Remy Gutherie story. Enjoy!

I also have a board on pinterest for this story located HERE. Check it out for random bits that may make their way into a future story as well as pictures of Jason Statham the face claim for Remy.

xXx

“Dammit Gutherie!”

Remy stared coolly at the officer. He had been in the wrong place at the wrong time and now here he was sitting an interrogation room. Who would have ever seen this coming?

Remy sighed, shifting in his seat. The police wanted Remy to spill the beans and give up the name of the guy Remy had been waiting for when they had shown up.

But Remy wasn’t going to do that. First of all, blabbing to the police wouldn’t make anyone want to trust him – except the police and who wanted that? Second of all, as a private investigator the police wouldn’t really believe anything Remy told them. Police always disliked PIs because they thought the PIs were sticking their noses into things that were not their business.

“You’ve got to give me something, Remy,” Officer Jenkins frowned, leaning over the table meeting Remy’s eyes head on.

Remy just cocked his eyebrow, and held up his index finger, signaling to give him a moment. He picked up his coffee cup and took a swallow before sitting his cup down.

The whole time Jenkins just stared at him, watching him, sure that Remy was about to talk.

Remy licked the remnants of his coffee from his lips before shrugging. His lips curled up into a smirk as he gave his answer.

“Nope.”

This was gonna be a long interrogation.

Remy Gutherie – Hero

Here’s the third Remy Gutherie story. Enjoy!

I also have a board on pinterest for this story located HERE. Check it out for random bits that may make their way into a future story as well as pictures of Jason Statham the face claim for Remy.

xXx

Remy Guthrie wasn’t a prince or some dark hero. Maybe he had done some heroic things but that didn’t make him a hero – though a select few may disagree.

He had saved a few lives, found some money and taken down a few bad people but that didn’t make him a hero. But the people who he had helped thought differently.

Mrs. Wilks who he had saved from loan sharks, baked him cakes and dinners every Sunday.

Lily Rhodes whose daughter he had saved from a kidnapper, he was always getting homemade cards and gifts from them.

Hank the mechanic, always kept his car up to date and kept everything running, all because Remy had kept him from going to jail.

Maybe Remy didn’t see himself as a hero but the people he helped, certainly saw him as one.

Remy Gutherie – Stake Out

Here’s the second Remy Gutherie story! Enjoy 🙂

I also have a board on pinterest for this story located HERE. Check it out for random bits that may make their way into a future story as well as pictures of Jason Statham the face claim for Remy.

xXx

Stake outs suck; though they could be exciting. But nine times out of ten, they were really boring. You couldn’t do anything either, in case something happened, so laptop, music, ect were out.

The only thing Remy could do was watch the suspect and drink coffee; lots and lots of coffee. He’s already gone through one thermos and a half and its only 3:10. THREE TEN. Ugh!

He’s been watching the suspect – Ronnie Assante (very lowlife sounding name, huh?), since 5:45, the time he got off at his job over at the warehouse on the corner of 5^th and Benjamin.

So far the suspect (he used that term loosely_ had done nothing but made burnt mac and cheese, drunk a few beers and watched ESPN. Remy had a feeling lil’ Ronnie was only a scape goat.

Which meant that the big bad wolf was still out there. And that little red riding hood was still out there somewhere waiting, waiting to be saved.

Time to start hunting.

Remy Gutherie – New Case

Hey guys! Long time no post, huh? Sorry it’s taken me so long to find my way back here but hopefully I’ll be back to making somewhat regular posts. To start that off here’s the first story for my collection of Remy Gutherie Stories. I wrote this one quite a while ago (at least a year and half ago) and only three other stories have followed so far though I have many ideas for the collection.

I also have a board on pinterest for this story located HERE. Check it out for random bits that may make their way into a future story as well as pictures of Jason Statham the face claim for Remy.

I’ll post the next 3 stories shortly plus perhaps a few other things. Enjoy!

Summary: Remy Guthrie is a Private I by day, a bodyguard (for hire; he wasn’t free) and a (reformed!) criminal. Life isn’t exactly easy for him.

xXx

There are three things Remy Guthrie knew for sure.

One – People lie; more than you thought and not as often as you would think.
Two – People are never what they seem.
Three – The world is dangerous.

Those three rules were important when you were a police officer, a private I, a bodyguard and a criminal. Remy was three of those things. A private I by day, a bodyguard (for hire; he wasn’t free) and a (reformed!) criminal. Obviously he wasn’t very trusted in this town.

Being a criminal meant that he wasn’t trusted by law enforcement; being a reformed criminal meant that the underground criminal world didn’t know if they could trust him, if he was trying pull off a gig or if he was giving tips and snitching to the police, and the police did try to have him snitch on things; which all in all got his ass kicked by both sides of the field.

Being a reformed criminal, bodyguard and P.I wasn’t easy. When people found out, well… Would you trust him?

Remy ran his hand over his head, taking his eyes off of the window across the street to grab his pack of cigarettes off his desk. Fishing his lighter out of his pocket, he lit the cancer stick and tossed the lighter onto the desk, watching it skip across it before settling next to his long grown cold coffee. Remy inhaled deeply, looking back to the window that had been dark for way too long.

Grabbing the cigarette and pulling it out of his mouth, Remy exhaled a few puffs of smoke. Clasping his mouth around the cigarette again and crossing his arms across his chest, Remy leaned against his dark cherry wood desk.

Remy kept his stance relaxed, reaching a hand down to his hip as he heard the slight squeak of his door being opened. Looking over his shoulder as his hand grasped the cool metal of his Colt M1911 pistol.

Turning around, Remy gave the young woman a glance over; Remy took in her features committing them to memory.

With amber red hair in a choppy hairstyle and green eyes hidden behind glasses, she had a nice face; cute even.

Remy watched her, tilt her head to the right and make her own assessment of him, wondering if she could trust him. A soft timid smile raced her lips.

“Those things will kill you, y’know?”

It seemed that he had a new case.

There was a notebook next to her. It was almost falling in between the seat and the bus itself. Curious Cathy as she was called couldn’t help herself. She picked up the notebook, glancing around to see if anyone was watching her. She was just seeing if anyone’s name was in the book, honest!  …So maybe shed take a peek at what’s written inside it, but who could blame her? Cathy opened the notebook.

Right in the middle of the first page, there were five sentences that chilled Cathy to the bone.

I see you. I’m looking at you right now. Which one am I? Find me within
ten seconds and I’ll spare your life. Better hurry.

Cathy’s hands started to shake. “It has to be a joke, right?” she mumbled as she hurriedly started flipping through the pages but all of them were blank. Cathy started looking around frantically even as her mind tried to logically say that the notebook was a joke. She started to stand up, tightly gripping the seat in front of her.

How much time had passed? It had to be more than 10 seconds, right? It had to be mo-

Cathy’s eyes met the bus driver’s eyes. He was looking back at her… Her mouth started to open but –

Suddenly there was a loud popping and crunching sound. There was the smell of sulfur and gas. There was a tremendous hike in heat. Suddenly…

And then darkness.

Prompt: Write something using these words: ghostly, edged, murmurs, poltergeist and silken.

Written: 2/21/14

Enjoy!

xXx

 

Things had been strange the last few months. Murmurs from voices not there, things moving or getting broken when no one had touched them, weird noises, terrifying nightmares and more. The idea that it all was coming from a poltergeist was an especially terrifying thought. Black shadows moved with swift grace; darting in and out of eye sight. The ghostly images in photographs taunted and teased. Who are – were they? Or what are they? The silken curtains waved with no wind to guide them. All to make sure no one forgot the boy in the photograph in that old sharp edged frame.

The Skeleton Figure

Hey, guys! Got a new little story for you that I wrote yesterday at Writing Club. Hope you guys like it! Enjoy!

Written: 10/17/13
The Prompt: The black cat started to crouch and hiss when…

 

xXx

The black cat started to crouch and hiss when the tv turned to static and blare loudly. He jumped off of the couch and onto his human’s stomach.

Jay startled, throwing himself of the couch.  He glared at his cat before turning the tv to some infomercial. “Rude,” Jay muttered.

Bealfire, his cat, just sat nice and prettily on the coffee table, cleaning himself. With a yawn, Jay stretched and thought about getting himself some of the pizza and peppers he had ordered earlier. As he went to stand, he heard his name.

“Mitch?” Jay looked for his roommate but a quick look around the room, showed that Mitch had yet to return. His jacket wasn’t hanging up, neither were his keys and his shoes weren’t by the coffee table waiting to trip Jay once again.

“Jay!”

The voice was louder this time. Maybe he was going crazy… (If he was, then he owed his ex an apology.)

“Jay! Yo, look over here!”

Jay turned his head toward the tv, only to be greeted with someone – a man going by the voice and body – wearing a skeleton mask.

“Uh, did you say something?”

This was so st—

“Yeah! About time I got your attention!”

Jay fell back onto the couch, eyes wide open as he stared in disbelief at the tv.

“This is nuts,” Jay muttered.

“No, what’s nuts is you eating peppers with that pizza. It’ll just give you nightmares and heartburn.”

“How did-“

“Never mind that. I need you to do something.”

“…What?”

“Go to the mirror.”

After a moment of hesitation, Jay went over to the mirror. “What now?”

“Look at me.”

Jay looked from his reflection, back to the skeleton masked wearing figure.

“Now look at your true self.”

Jay looked back at the mirror and screamed. He had black skin, yellow eyes, red triangles under his eyes and fangs that were dripping blue. The skeleton started to laugh as Jay continued to scream.

With a gasping breath, Jay awoke. He raced to the mirror, knocking Bealfire off of him. Jay sighed in relief. He looked totally normal. He needed to go to bed.

Jay turned the tv off and swooped down to grab Bealfire before heading for his bedroom, hearing Mitch snoring away in his own room. As he walked down the dark hallway, he heard the skeleton once again;

“Goodnight Jay,” and its laugh dying off.

Mangos and Babies

A/N: This story was born from a prompt during my Writing Club. The prompt was a story that contained: an orphaned baby, misplaced mangos, a package delivered to the wrong address and a conversation between two strangers. My friends as well as my mom and grandma enjoyed the story and I hope you do as well! No read more as this is a pretty short story.

xXx

Ding Dong
Ding Dong

 

“Hold your horses,” Cooper yelled as he headed toward the front door. He opened the door to see his regular mailman, Kenny.

“Sup,” Kenny grinned while handing over the clipboard for Cooper to sign that he had indeed gotten his package. He then traded the clipboard for the large package. It seemed bigger than need be for some mangos and it had holes on the top of it, but Cooper shrugged it off as being that maybe the mangos were really big this time and that the holes were to help them from going bad.

After saying bye to Kenny, Cooper headed into the kitchen to open the package. He grabbed a knife and sliced through the tape on top and then he pulled back the flaps…. Only to see a baby wrapped in pink with a few toys, diapers and formula next to it as well as an envelope.

Cooper stared wide eyed at the baby as it gurgled happily. He ripped open the envelope to find a letter, which he quickly read.

‘To whom it may concern,

I’m sorry for your misplaced mangos but I had to save my daughter Annie from life on this illegal mango farm.

Please take care of her.’

It listed then things about the baby girl but Cooper was too shocked to read it.

Meanwhile

Wesley was coming from the skate park and met the mailman delivering packages.

“Hey,” Wes greeted as he bounded up the steps to his front door.

“Hey man,” the mailman returned the greeting.

“Where’s Carl?” Wes asked as he took the clipboard being handed to him and signed his name quickly.

“Out sick, so I’m taking his streets for now. I’m Kenny by the way.”

Wes nodded, handing the clipboard back to Kenny, “I’m Wes.”

After saying his goodbyes, Wes headed inside to open the package. He dropped it on the coffee table, wondering what it was as he hadn’t ordered anything in months. Maybe it was something for one of his parents or one of his siblings. Either way, he opened the package to see a box full of mangos.

“What the…?” Wes picked one up and rolled it around in his hands. It seemed normal. Maybe his mom had ordered them? Though… wasn’t his little brother Keaton allergic to mangos?

Suddenly the mango split into two pieces and there in the middle of the mango was a piece of gold, the size of his fist. Wes dropped the mango in surprise. He grabbed another and pulled it apart. There rested a clear diamond, about the size of a wheel from Wes’ skateboard. He opened another just in case, shaking a bit. Inside the third mango wasn’t gold or another diamond but a bag of white powder.

“Wes!”

Wes jumped and saw his sister’s boyfriend. From the way Alec was looking at him, Wes had a feeling that this package was his.

Elsewhere

An elderly woman opened a package of mangos. They were tasty but…

“Where’s my bananas?”

I’m not a hero. I’m just what the criminals fear.

Note: This is a piece for a universe in some rps/stories where my character is part of the Bat-family and is called Crow.  This is a ‘what if’ type of story. What if one day the criminals over ran the heroes? What if some heroes if not all became killers to help take down the criminals? This is what came from it.

If anyone’s interested, I made some fashion sets made for this story located here and here.

xXx

The rain falling from the heavens washed away the blood that had splattered on the ground and walls of the alleyway. But nothing could wash the blood from the hands that had caused the death of the man who lay mutilated on the hard cold ground.

The man in question was Joseph Michaels, drug dealer, child molester and rapist. No one would be sad to see him gone honestly, but it didn’t mean his murder could be swept under the rug.

Except in this world, that’s exactly what would happen.

Gotham in 2020 was a different place than it once was. Crime had long over taken the streets and the heroes. Though quite a few heroes still lived, they were outnumbered.

Many villains thrived but there were those who were overwhelmed or found their corner of mayhem taken from them; those who did would either lead a war on whoever took it from them or they would see the world around them and turn to a life of good will and justice – at least for the time being.

The heroes on the other hand… So many had passed, many crippled and yet the good fight was still going on… just a touch different.

While there were those who still upheld the no kill lifestyle of the heroes, others had long grown into their roles of killers. A few slipped through the cracks and changed into killers for hire or killing small time offenders but others…

A gleaming batarang cut through the air and hooked into the knee of Michaels’s fleeing apprentice. With a yell escaping his face, Roger Crispers fell to the ground. He turned over, trying to scoot backwards away as the rain mixed with the blood from his nose, nearly hiding the fact that it was indeed broken.