User Tag List

First 123 Last

Results 11 to 20 of 26

  1. #11
    Senior Member Ene's Avatar
    Join Date
    Aug 2012
    Enneagram
    9w8
    Posts
    3,545

    Default

    Ziggy stuck his chest out like a peacock in heat, like he thought he was John Wayne or something. I rolled my eyes, "Really?" I said, surprised that it came out of my mouth.

    "Really what, Sugar?" He took a puff from his cigarette then grinned. He had pretty teeth, which irritated the crap out of me for some reason. Maybe because I expected Old Zig to be old and ugly. I wanted him to be ugly. My job would be easier if he were ugly, but he wasn't. He had that perfect mid-west haircut, like the news anchors always wore and an accent that was no accent at all, had no life in it, flat as a dry cow patty. He was over confident and smooth and I had to play the helpless whore, because if I didn't, I'd end up dead and of all the places I've never been, that's the one I least wanted to go.

    "Really nice place," I said, pouring on my Mississippi accent as strongly as I could. "I ain't never been no place so fancy before." I looked around the room, eyeing his décor like I was Ellie Mae Clampet.

    "You bring me the cash, Little Miss Corn Pole?" He said then chuckled. His laugh was so greasy that you could've fried bacon on it.

    I pulled the bag Hank had give me out of my purse and deposited it on his desk. He counted it.

    "It's good," he said. Then he reached under his desk.
    A student said to his master: "You teach me fighting, but you talk about peace. How do you reconcile the two?" The master replied: "It is better to be a warrior in a garden than to be a gardener in a war." - unknown/Chinese

    http://www.typologycentral.com/forum...=61024&page=14

  2. #12
    Senior Member
    Join Date
    Dec 2008
    Posts
    4,226

    Default

    His hand came back up holding a small brick of blow. Finally we had incontrovertible proof that Ziggy was supplying Hank and Harold with coke.

    It was hard to believe that Harold and Hank were savvy enough to participate in this scheme. Hank was a low-level pimp, everybody knew that, but no one could figure out how the hell he was dealing cocaine. No surveillance had ever caught him or Harold at a buy. No one had seen any buys at all, just product coming from Hank and Harold going to the street corners. That was until by blind, stupid luck a couple of uniforms walking a beat rousted one of Hank's girls carrying eight thousand dollars in unmarked, non-sequential tens, twenties and fifties. When they took her to the station for questioning she couldn't tell them much, just that Hank told her to go to a house and drop off the money. The same two flatfeet found her body in an alley five days after she was released.

    After a few weeks of work posing as an impressionable girl from Mississippi with nowhere else to go Hank took me in and over the course of the following months I put it together that Hank sent his girls to drop sites all over the city with cash, and they brought back small bricks. No big buys. There was no reason for anyone to stop the girls. No one suspected them of carrying wads of cash and product with them. They weren't soliciting, they were just moving from one spot to another. Back and forth. We had only gotten wise to it because of that one girl who slipped up. She didn't go straight to the drop as she was told, she thought she'd make Hank happy by turning a couple tricks on the way. If she had done what she was told the cops wouldn't have had any reason to stop her. Somebody killed her for not following instructions.

    Ziggy placed the carefully wrapped package on the desk. I tried as best I could to conceal the anticipation I was feeling. I thought my heart might beat its way right out of my chest. I had all the proof we'd need to indict Ziggy, Harold and Hank.

    "Now you take that right back home, you understand?"

    "Of course," I replied, laying the charm on thick. I stood up, carefully put the contraband in my purse and turned to the door. Ziggy let out a long sigh as I extended my right hand toward the brass knob.

    "Sugar?" I looked over my right shoulder at his big toothy grin. "When you get home you tell Hank that I want to see you again." Lecherous prick.

    I feigned the best smirk I could and said, "Of course, baby. I'd like that." I opened the door and passed Goon Number 2. He closed the door behind me. I'd have given him two bits for his exemplary doormanship if I carried any change. I walked carefully down the stairs, careful to not twist an ankle in the red stilettos and careful to dampen my enthusiasm. Months of work were about to be completed just as soon as I walked out that door, down those steps and down the street. Half of the vice squad would show up and bust Ziggy, and the other half would be busting Hank and Harold across town.

    Goon Number 1 got out of the tired wicker chair as I reached the bottom of the stairs and opened the door and closed it behind me. So polite of him.

    Home free, I thought. We finally had them. I walked down the steps and began biting my lower lip to hide the smile on my face.

    I got a scant few yards from the building when I felt the explosion hit me. I felt it before I heard it. The force of it pushed me forward and I fell hard to the pavement. I shouldn't have been biting my lip to conceal my smirk; I was lucky I hadn't bit right through it when my jaw hit the macadam.

    My body felt heavy as I pushed a shoulder off the ground and turned to look back at the building. The second floor was ablaze and every window was shattered. Debris was strewn all over. Ziggy was surely dead.

    Ringing filled my ears. My body felt heavier and heavier. I rested my shoulder back on the ground. I just need to rest for a while. I closed my eyes and listened to the ringing subside. Just need some rest. My eyelids were weighted, I couldn't have opened them if I wanted to. I didn't want to. I just need rest. I was helpless against the rising tide of unconsciousness. I let go and passed out.

  3. #13
    Problem? Grand Admiral Crunch's Avatar
    Join Date
    Mar 2014
    MBTI
    INFP
    Enneagram
    3w4 sp/so
    Posts
    1,677

    Default

    Bruises, cuts, and scars - hazards of the job. The first time someone hit me, I fantasized this; that I was a cop, someone empowered, and that Hank and Harold were easily defeated foes. But none of it was true. There was no Ziggy or a building that exploded when I'd walked out of it. Just a whore's fantasy. The reality is much stranger. Hank and Harold are from a powerful family who rule the world by proxy. You won't see them on the news, but they're a part of it. So, why does Hank screw with me? Partly because he's a sadistic POS who enjoys it. But I am also part of something more important. Much much bigger. This isn't your grandpa's conspiracy, or anything you could figure out. It is supernatural, and you can't know it until you've met the Milkman. The Milkman is screwing you over. You are screwed.

  4. #14
    Problem? Grand Admiral Crunch's Avatar
    Join Date
    Mar 2014
    MBTI
    INFP
    Enneagram
    3w4 sp/so
    Posts
    1,677

    Default

    A psychiatrist I slept with diagnosed me with Dissociative Identity Disorder. Says it's quite common among people in my profession, among prostitutes. So, I'm crazy. I'm crazy? That's great. There's no conspiracy, and that Hank and Harold are not from a family who rule the world by proxy, and there's no Milkman. I don't have to worry about the Milkman....or do I?

  5. #15
    resonance entropie's Avatar
    Join Date
    Apr 2008
    MBTI
    entp
    Enneagram
    783
    Posts
    16,761

    Default

    She tokk my hand in a way, I was not used to. It was a kind and nice way, it felt eternal. I looked suprised into her eyes but she didnt flinch. She took my arm and moved it to her side. I was just a shoulder away. I didnt know what to say know but I didnt felt like saying something know. Her hand went around my shoulder and I was completly going crazy, but I didnt let my cool run over me. She was that girl, I have known her for a couple of months by now and the first time I have seen here I have fallen in love with her. It wasnt that love, it was that love, her eyes completly took out any other thought, I loved her and I will always do. Took me some time to develop the guts to take her out but I did and when I did, it wasnt like usual. I felt her shoulder and it felt like eternity. Some people wonder why I dont embrace, but most of them will never know how unique that feels..
    [URL]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tEBvftJUwDw&t=0s[/URL]

  6. #16
    Problem? Grand Admiral Crunch's Avatar
    Join Date
    Mar 2014
    MBTI
    INFP
    Enneagram
    3w4 sp/so
    Posts
    1,677

    Default

    They were just words on a page, about a guy who felt that way about a woman. My heart had been dead for so long. I didn't think I could feel anything; I hadn't for so long. But I lost control and cried. No one would love me that deeply, or hug me and make me feel safe. I was unworthy of that, because I am a multiple personality-having possibly schizophrenic whore and scared of the Milkman.

    My rational thoughts came back to me. I stopped crying. He hadn't really felt that way about her. Guys do that; write things and say shit to get into a girls pants. This was another one of those things. But on some level, I hadn't given up. I wished I could stop my heart from straining forward, hoping my feelings would be returned.

  7. #17
    resonance entropie's Avatar
    Join Date
    Apr 2008
    MBTI
    entp
    Enneagram
    783
    Posts
    16,761

    Default

    Quote Originally Posted by theDarkSide View Post
    They were just words on a page, about a guy who felt that way about a woman. My heart had been dead for so long. I didn't think I could feel anything; I hadn't for so long. But I lost control and cried. No one would love me that deeply, or hug me and make me feel safe. I was unworthy of that, because I am a multiple personality-having possibly schizophrenic whore and scared of the Milkman.
    and I wondered how a bathroom mirror could talk to me
    [URL]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tEBvftJUwDw&t=0s[/URL]

  8. #18
    Senior Member Ene's Avatar
    Join Date
    Aug 2012
    Enneagram
    9w8
    Posts
    3,545

    Default

    I used to make fun of Uncle Bill for getting drunk on vanilla extract, but hey, anybody can succumb to a bad trip. After I delivered that package it was like I was on a psychedelic trip to the moon. I rembered the explosion, rembered hitting the ground and hearing sirens. But everything after that had been a whirlwind of fuzzy fading ins and outs.

    I was a long way from home, and home really was Mississippi, but I hadn't run away to become a prostitue or a drug addict. I had left home to work for Uncle Sam and a two year deep cover assignment in the midst of drug trafficking, prostitution and some illegal arms trades had me so far in over my head that at times I did find myself sleeping with people who made my flesh crawl and now I had been so pumped full of drugs that I wasn't sure who or what I was anymore. The plan had been that the agency would meet me after my meeting with Ziggy, that I would go on vacation and come back after a couple weeks rest for a new assignment, but something had gone horribly wrong.

    I came to and realized that I was tied to a chair. My head hurt. I was nauseous and it was hard to focus. I kept trying to rembered my name and which part of my experiences over the past few days had been real. Was Ziggy dead? Who had brought me here and bound me to this chair?
    A student said to his master: "You teach me fighting, but you talk about peace. How do you reconcile the two?" The master replied: "It is better to be a warrior in a garden than to be a gardener in a war." - unknown/Chinese

    http://www.typologycentral.com/forum...=61024&page=14

  9. #19
    Senior Member
    Join Date
    Oct 2013
    MBTI
    INFP
    Enneagram
    4w5 sp
    Socionics
    INFj Ne
    Posts
    783

    Default

    "Yes, I am too a whore!" I shouted.
    Delvin says, "No, you're a cop."
    Delvin is one of my clients. He hires me to act out different scenes and characters. I don't know why, but this time, he had me pretending to be a cop. Doing this made me disassociate into my cop fantasy and I thought I was one for a second.

  10. #20
    Senior Member Ene's Avatar
    Join Date
    Aug 2012
    Enneagram
    9w8
    Posts
    3,545

    Default

    Cop. Whore? whatever. it didn't matter. I was now sure of only one thing. I wanted out. I began to formulate a plot in my mind, a plot to kill Devlin, Hank and Harold. I was tired of sleeping with idiots and running errands for obscene jerks. even prison was better than what i was putting up with, but I wasn't going to prison, not willingly anyway.

    Also, I would take no chances on some weird twist of fate resurrecting these morons from the dead. It was clear to me that I was existing in a world where anything was possible. So when Devlin came in for his "fun" I wrapped my slender, nimble legs around his puny neck. I'd seen my aunts wring enough chicken heads off back home that I knew just how to turn, just how to twist. I felt the crack between my knees and watched the horrified look on Devlin's face as the life went out of his eyes and for a moment, I felt sad that I had killed him, but what was done was done. His body expelled all his fluids. i almost puked, but at least it was proof that he was dead.

    Now I had to dispose of his body and get out of this motel room. First order of business was to get out of the chair. I fished around in dead Devlin's pocket with my toes until I found his pocket knife. With those same limber legs that had freed me from having to have sex with this freak, I brought the knife to my mouth and opened it with my teeth. Then I awkwardly cut through the ropes enough to loosen them. I was able to free myself now.

    I went to Devlin's closet. He was bigger than me, but disguising myself as a man wouldn't be that hard. I ended up in a pair of khaki pants which i belted around my waist as tightly as i could, a T-shirt and a denim jacket that nicely concealed my feminine attributes. I just put them all on over the thin top and shorts that I happened to be wearing. But shoes? His feet were bigger than mine. I found a pair hiking boots and stuffed the toes with toilet paper. I stuck the stilettos I'd worn into my pocket. Now, the only task remaining was how to get rid of the body, 160 pounds of dead weight, and the longer I waited the stiffer it would become. Did he go to Hell? I wondered and would I go for sending him there? "No time for that," I told myself. "Think clearly."

    I let my gaze wander around the room. Next step. Clean up every trace of evidence that id been there and as I cleaned, it hit me. There had to be some way to help him break his own neck. Sure the forensic people would figure it out eventually, but that would give me time to carry out my plans for H&H. Then it hit me. The rope. I used the very rope that I'd been tied with. I tied the cut pieces back together, made a noose, eased it around the old boy's neck, then tied the other end to a bed post. We were about fifteen stories up. I opened a window, drug old Devlin across the floor. Funny how strong adrenaline can make a person. I pulled him onto the window sill then gave him a shove. Devlin was swinging by his neck fifteen stories above the street and me? I calmly exited the building and walked away before anyone had even looked up and seen him swinging there. For now I was free. I was no longer a whore, no longer a cop. I was an assassin and I had one agenda. Get Hank and Harold out of my life for good.



    ***I apologize for capitalization errors. This iPad isn't always cooperative with me.
    A student said to his master: "You teach me fighting, but you talk about peace. How do you reconcile the two?" The master replied: "It is better to be a warrior in a garden than to be a gardener in a war." - unknown/Chinese

    http://www.typologycentral.com/forum...=61024&page=14

Similar Threads

  1. [E4] hey E4s lets get some music going on this forum ;)
    By Bnova in forum Enneagram Type Profiles
    Replies: 0
    Last Post: 02-10-2015, 09:11 AM
  2. let's write MBTI poetry
    By skylights in forum Myers-Briggs and Jungian Cognitive Functions
    Replies: 14
    Last Post: 11-24-2013, 08:13 PM
  3. Let's write a rhyme with, like, everyone
    By Comeback Girl in forum Arts & Entertainment
    Replies: 20
    Last Post: 09-16-2013, 04:32 PM
  4. lets all write 3 paragraph responses
    By prplchknz in forum The Fluff Zone
    Replies: 1
    Last Post: 06-06-2012, 02:07 PM
  5. couple lets baby starve to death while caring for virtual child
    By velocity in forum Politics, History, and Current Events
    Replies: 16
    Last Post: 12-11-2010, 12:11 AM

Posting Permissions

  • You may not post new threads
  • You may not post replies
  • You may not post attachments
  • You may not edit your posts
Single Sign On provided by vBSSO