| One Too Many Shots Of Tequilla... | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Jan 5 2014, 04:54 AM (46 Views) | |
| Fenix | Jan 5 2014, 04:54 AM Post #1 |
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"I dunno, man. It just-" the guy at the bar pauses to down another shot, pushing the empty glass back towards me. He might very well be batshit crazy, but he's not drunk yet, so I pour him another. "It just what?" I prompt, steering him back towards the story. "It just seriously creeped me out. I mean, you see graphitti all over the place, right? Gang signs, Bobby loves Angie, Fuck Lone Star, shit like that. Sometimes you even see messages people leave for each other, like "I'm coming back to kick your ass" or some crazy code that you just know is drop instructions for something illegal. But this? It didn't seem like a code. It seemed like somebody crazy was thinking about doing something awful, and wanting somebody to talk them out of it. Like ten percent of me wanted to find out who wrote it and see if I could help, and the other ninety wanted to crawl in a hole and hide from the bump in the friggin dark." He tipped his glass back yet again, shuddering as he slammed it back onto the bar. "You said you took a picture?" I asked, as I refilled his glass like a good bartender. He nodded. His eyes were still a little wide, but I could see the liquor was starting to work its magic on his jangled nerves. "Mind if I take a look?" He waved a hand absently in the air, and a file download popped up on my display. ![]() I let out a long, low whistle. "You're right," I grimaced, "That's fucking creepy." He nodded, swallowing hard. "It's the little bloody handprint that got me. Like... I didn't get close enough to find out, but I think the whole thing's written in blood." I repressed a shudder of my own. "Where'd you say you saw it?" "Warehouse on Forty-Ninth Street. Damn thing's falling apart, collapsing in on itself, but apparently there's at least one crazy still calling it home. Guess shit's tough all over nowadays." "Want my advice?" I offered, continuing when he raised an eyebrow at me. "Stay away from Forty-Ninth. Whole area's bad news, nothing but gangs, druggies and crazies. Believe me, buddy, you don't want to know what lives in the dark corners over there." He nodded as he got up to leave, dropping a cred-stick on the counter. "You don't have to tell me twice." |
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1:51 AM Jul 13