a little dead? 6 (416 hits)
Category: NoneRating: 1.62 on 11 reviews (Rate this item) (V)
Submitted by Allyson (View user info) at 2006-09-16 00:33:48 EDT
a little dead? 1 http://www.ubersite.com/m/92917
a little dead? 2 http://www.ubersite.com/m/92962
a little dead? 3 http://www.ubersite.com/m/92978
a little dead? 4 http://www.ubersite.com/m/93031
a little dead? 5 http://www.ubersite.com/m/93082
The muscular hood across from him nods, an old-time stooge of Pablo's. He's to Pablo what Pablo is to Diaz: hired help, valued and trusted (to a measure) but ultimately, replaceable. But for this kind of work, Hector was right on. He quickly binds Danny's wrists and ankles in duct tape from his jacket, then hefts him easily over his shoulder.
Pablo frowns in curiosity and opens the bulging hold all. His eyebrows arch and he gives an impressed whistle as he sees the impressive cache lying on the floor in front of him. Not looking a gift horse in the mouth, he closes it again and picks it up, Hector passing him quickly. Even with the two-hundred-pound Danny over his shoulder the big Honduran walks pretty quickly.
"See you in the car."
Hector just nods and Pablo walks swiftly downstairs, past the desk clerk. The grimy looking guy looks up from his black-and-white TV as Herrera stops in front of him, hand reaching into his jacket. He tosses a roll of bills onto the counter and the clerk scoops them up with a smug smile.
"Thought he was the guy you was looking for..."
"Yeah. Thanks."
With that Pablo walks into the street, seeing the Escalade cruising round the corner. He opens the trunk and sees Danny lying there, bound and helpless. He grins in satisfaction, knowing how much Diaz will appreciate this, and gets in the front.
"You get his guns?"
Hector nods as Pablo tosses the hold all into the back seat, moving into traffic. He'd frisked the ex-ranger before dumping him in the boot, from ankle to back of the neck.
"Yeah. Two pieces and a blade, nothing else."
Pablo nods and lights a cigarette, idly watching the traffic glide past them noiselessly in the insulated SUV. They cruise east, heading for Queens, for Diaz... and for a reckoning.
Queens, 9:23PM
"Hey... hey...?"
Blackness. It's Danny's entire world right now, this inky, endless dark. The voice drifts into his mind like though thick fog; fuzzy, indistinct... but just menacing enough.
Where am I?
"HEY! SHITHEAD!"
That don't sound good.
His eyes still refuse to see but he knows he's sitting, and instantly tries to stand. But it's useless; he can barely even twitch. The cold metal tingle at his wrists and ankles tell him he's cuffed into the high-backed chair he's in.
Diaz. Gotta be Diaz... that fuck in the motel!
"Wake this prick up, Hector."
There's an explosion in Danny's right cheek and his head snaps back, Hectors solid right hook connecting perfectly. Not enough for a knock out, just enough to wake him up. In a flash of pain and shock Danny's eyes spring open and the bare bulb instantly blinds him above his chair. The fuzzy black figures around him slowly become more distinct... and he realizes just how far in the shit he really is.
Ah... not good.
Hector steps back from Danny, massaging his knuckles with a smirk on his face. Behind him Pablo leans in the shadows, impassively smoking a Marlboro as he watches the show. But Diaz, standing by the door with a couple of thugs lounging behind him... he's less of a spectator.
"Who the fuck you working for, shithead?"
Danny looks up as the Colombian walks over to him, eyes full of hate. Out the corner of his eye he can see a table covered with blades and other tools, and it's obvious that this... basement, isn't a hobby shop.
Yep, this is gonna get real bad, real fuckin' quick.
"HEY!" Diaz looks ready to burst a vein as Danny stays silent, concentrating more on gathering his thoughts than listening to this Napoleonic little cunt. "I FUCKIN' TALKING TO YOU!"
TOOF!
Danny sends a bloody gob of saliva slap onto Diaz's snakeskin shoes, ruining them. Miguel can only look down very slowly, almost unable to believe it until he sees the tiny pool of crimson on his boots. His head snaps back up, lips curling into a feral snarl, and he walks over to the table.
"Wanna be tough... show you fuckin' tough..." He picks up a blade, a kitchen knife by the looks of it, and walks back to Danny. "Pinche cabron!"
Here it comes.
"HUURGH!"
He raises the blade and stabs it deep into Danny's left leg, almost to the bone. Thorn grits his teeth and tries with all his strength not to scream, choking it off at the back of his teeth. Further enraged by his captive's resolve, Diaz just snarls, and twists the blade.
"AAAAAAH-FUCK YOU!"
Blood spurts and bubbles from the open wound but all Danny does is spew more hatred at the drugs baron, the only weapon he has now. He knows from experience that in this situation, only that pure, cleansing hatred will keep him, sane, keep him cool... let him remember why he needs to live.
Because you need to die, motherfucker...
"WHO FUCKING HIRED YOU?!?!"
"FUCK YOU!"
"RAAAAAGH!!!"
With a yell Miguel pulls the blade out and stabs it into Danny's arm. He shouts as the knife goes in like a blowtorch, but it's more rage than anything else. The hate is keeping the adrenaline pumping through him, blinding him to the pain, keeping him fixed on how much he wants everyone in this room to die fucking screaming.
"FUCK YASELF!"
Miguel pulls the blade and throws it on the floor, walking away from Danny. He cracks the bones in his neck briefly, that little exertion taking something out of him. But Danny knows Diaz and his pals haven't even begun the hard stuff yet; this is just the foreplay, the chance for a quick death.
Fuck 'em.
Diaz shakes his head and turns to a shadowy Pablo, finishing his latest cigarette. It's obvious this prick isn't going to break easy, so he's going to go to the only other guy with the inside track here; the guy who ID'd him in the first place.
"Pablo, how the fuck you know this guy? Gimme the fuckin' details."
Danny's head jerks up, twin agonies in his leg and arm forgotten for now. Someone knows him? Here? With these fuckers? Like everyone else his eyes turn to Pablo, who nonchalantly lights another Marlboro as he tells his tale, cold eyes flicking over to Danny.
"Favor I did for a friend in LA, 'bout a year ago. He's a big guy over there and I owe him, so he calls me one day and says he needs something done in Florida."
A very bad feeling starts to rise in Danny's gut, but he keeps listening.
"'apparently, my friend's supplier in Mexico wanted it done. Some torch job on a family that had pissed him off." He snorts and shakes his head, the sheer weirdness of the job making him chuckle. "His words were that he'd been "dishonored", whatever the fuck that meant. Anyway, Hector and me went down there to torch this house and the three people inside. Ah... yeah, man, woman, and their kid."
Pablo shrugs, taking a drag. "Fuck, two outta three ain't bad."
Torch job... torch job?
"I gotta go... I'll be OK, I always am..."
"I love you..."
Not an accident. No electrical fault. Killed... murdered...
They killed them. They... him...
"MOTHERFUCKERS!!!!!!"
Everyone in the room jumps as something sounding just about human roars out of Danny's throat and he tries to lunge out of the chair. The cuffs stay solid, of course, but the sheer force of his lunge snaps the wood of the chair back in half, getting his arms free. But not his legs.
"BASTARD!!!!"
He falls to the floor, the other men in the room taking an involuntary step back from this bound and wounded man, who's completely unarmed. Danny Thorn turns wide, blazing eyes onto Pablo, and even that child of the Bogotá backstreets flinches at the sheer...
Not even a word for this.
"YOU'RE FUCKIN' DEAD ALLA YOU I'LL FUCKIN' KILL ALL YOU SWEAR TO FUCKIN GOD YOU'RE ALL BEG ME TO FUCKIN-"
"Shut the FUCK UP!"
Hector draws his leg back and plants a size twelve boot square in Danny's rib, knocking the wind out of him. But Danny barely feel it now, indescribable rage giving him strength beyond normal men. He manages to get to one knee before another shattering right hook slams into his face.
Danny takes it and looks right back at him, almost unfazed.
"FUCK YOU!"
"PUT THIS FUCKER DOWN, NOW!"
At their boss's command Diaz's goons move in for the kill as well, just as Hector rams his knee into Danny's solar plexus. A second later a rain of boots and fists lay into his prone form, but it's almost like it's not his body anymore. He feels the impact, knows they hurt, but he's far away now.
All of 'em... all of 'em... fuckin' beg me to die...
"Enough."
Once Danny's a singular mass of bruises, the three thugs back off, letting Diaz get look at his new subject. He points to another chair and speaks harshly, checking his watch.
"Put the prick in that, and make fuckin' sure it's sturdy for fuck's sake!"
Diaz's goons hoist Danny up and throw him into the chair, a mahogany number that even he isn't going to get out of. Hector saunters over and gives him a savage head butt before briefly uncuffing him, clamping them back on when the chain's behind the chair. A few seconds later his feet are cuffed up to the chair legs as well, and they slink back to their boss.
Diaz checks his watch and shakes his head. Much as he'd love to stay and take this cunt
Diaz checks his watch and shakes his head. Much as he'd love to stay and take this cunt apart, business has to come first, and this is a big night. This is just... a little complication.
"They'll get here soon." He addressed Pablo, opening the door before throwing a panting, snarling Danny one last glare. He points at him with a sick smile on his face.
"You make this fuck talk. I don't give a fuck what you gotta do. I'll be upstairs. Whatever happens, wait 'til they're gone before you come up."
Pablo just nods, orders understood and Diaz walks out, leaving them to it. The metal door clangs behind him and Pablo stubs out his cigarette, walking over to the side of the room. Danny's hateful eyes follow him over, and he can see a large mound in one corner. There's the sound of a zip being undone, and Danny realizes it's his hold all. And his weapons.
Humming lightly, Pablo rifles quickly through it before making his choice. He walks back to Danny with a smile and crouches down in front of the ex-Ranger, letting him see the long, gleaming blade of the hunting knife in his hand.
"Just you and us now, asshole."
The Iceman looks up into his eyes, and his smile is barely human.
"Wouldn't... have it... any other way..."
The baseball bat is as good as it gets. The cuts and slashes are worse, lingering pains that he can feel oozing blood with every second. The bare-knuckle beating's he's almost fazed out, irregular as they are. Danny knows that they're still just warming up.
They were serious they would have started cutting things off by now.
"Fuck... I need a drink."
Hectors voice cuts into his mind like a knife. The guy's very existence is the one thing keeping him going right now, that nourishing hatred keeping his mind clear through the pain. He's sitting panting in the chair, of course, blood pooling at his feet, face swollen beyond medical possibility.
But he's still conscious. And he's waiting.
C'mon you bastards... one good knock's all I need...
"We gotta get this shit first." His bloodshot eyes slide over to Pablo as he stands by the table, hands wandering over the various sadistic toys on there. Hectors standing to one side, stretching a little. The last thirty minutes have been a pretty good work out but Danny still hasn't said shit but a stream of expletives and ever more savage threats.
Buy time. All you gotta do is buy time...
"Hey... fuck face."
Both Hispanics turn in surprise as Danny's voice gargles at them, or Hector specifically. The Honduran frowns and steps forward and Danny looks at him, bracing his right hand for what he hopes will follow. He manages a mocking smile as Hector locks eyes with him.
"You... you used to box?"
Hector just frowns in bewilderment, looking to Pablo who just shrugs.
"Yeah. Fuck is it to you, prick?"
Danny snorts contemptuously. "Cuz you punch like a fuckin' girl."
"FUCKER!"
Hectors right hand balls up and rears back, giving Danny a second to clench his jaw and hold his right thumb ready just before -
CRUNCH!
It's a true hammer blow, but Danny 's thankful that Hectors still keeping his head. It's not a knock out blow, but the haymaker sends him flying to the floor, chair falling on top of him. As he falls he holds his thumb close to his palm, and lets the knuckle hit the concrete floor first.
"AAARGHHH!"
His scream and the crash of the chair falling cover the wet pop of his thumb dislocating perfectly, and suddenly his hand is an inch or so thinner. His thumb hangs limp behind his back, but already he can feel the cuff sitting loose round it.
More than enough...
"Piece a' SHIT!"
The impact of the blow still has his head ringing when Hector picks him up, chair and all, and plants him back down in the centre of the room. Pablo gives his muscle a casual look over his shoulder before returning to perusing the table, knowing Hector can handle this shit. Hell, these kind of beatings are practically his specialty.
Hector makes it real easy for Danny, screwing his face nice and close to his, letting stinking breath wash over him as he snarls into his face.
"Anything to say now, fucker?"
Danny slides his right hand out of its cuff, and smiles with bloody teeth.
"Not really."
Taking a half-second to draw on all the remaining strength in his battered body, he swings his left hand out and forward, grabbing the side of Hectors face. Before the big thug can even react, he buries his thumb into his left eye. To the knuckle.
"AAAAAARRRRRRRRHHHHH!"
Hectors anguished wail fills the room as his eyeball explodes in it's socket, sticky fluid and clear-looking blood bursting out of it as Danny's iron thumb stabs all the way in. He tries to rear away but Danny's right comes up and grabs his windpipe, squeezing as hard as he can.
He hears a sickening crunch as the bastard's voice box disintegrates, and the guy topples on top of him.
"The fuck is -"
Pablo whirls around in shock to see Danny and Hector lying in a heap on the floor, Danny's legs still comically straight, secured by the cuffs. Hectors spitting blood and struggling on top of him but already Danny's hands are feeling round his waistband for a piece. His new freedom has given him strength anew, a raging renewal of life that has one focus.
Kill as many of these fucks as you can.
His hands finally find a pistol and he rips it clear, aiming at Pablo's legs just as the Colombian thug reaches for his own gun.
Danny releases four bullets from their copper cages, sprinting towards their final destination.
Pablo screams shrilly as three of the bullets slam into his legs, one of them obliterating his right kneecap. Then again, fro this distance Danny can't possibly miss, even in his weakened state. Herrera's legs seem to vanish from under him and he slumps to the floor, gun skittering across the room.
"HURGGGGKGK... HURGKKK!"
Suddenly steely fingers grab Danny's neck as Hector makes one last try. Half blind, voiceless and rapidly choking on his own juices, he still has enough hate in his veins to finish what he started. But even this mortal hatred is nothing compared to Danny's.
The Iceman jerks the pistol to the side of Hectors head, and pulls the trigger once.
The right side of Hectors face explodes over Danny's as the 9mm bullet punches straight through it, taking a hefty chunk of brain matter with it. Dead in an instant, Hector becomes 240lb of dead weight, and Danny quickly rolls him off.
C'mon soldier, faster, FASTER!
"You... fuck!"
Danny jerks his body onto his hands and knees, legs still bound. He sees Herrera trying to grab a knife from the table and crawls over quickly, hands and knees almost a blur as he moves. He's leaving a trail of sticky blood behind him but doesn't slow, not for a second.
You're mine, motherfucker.
With a savage grunt he reaches Herrera and clocks him with a right hook across the face. Danny's bleeding arms scream out in objection but he ignores them, falling on Pablo's back as he hits the floor facedown. Not giving him an inch, he grabs the back of his hair and slams his face into the concrete floor, sadistic grin on his face as he hears something break.
"MFFFFUH!"
Danny lifts it back up and brings it crashing home again, and Herrera goes still. For long seconds Danny keeps hold, every fiber of him aching to rip this cunt to pieces, preferably over several weeks. But that rational part of his mind kicks in again, reminding him that the battered fuck below him is only the last link in the whole chain.
The guy in LA. The supplier in Mexico. Find them.
He rolls off Herrera, satisfied he's unconscious, but not yet dead. He rifles quickly through Hectors pockets and quickly finds the keys to the cuffs, freeing himself. Then Danny stands, and tries to work out how soon he'll die.
Critical, trained hands wander over his body, feeling at cuts and bruises and welts and worse. His breath's coming out in ragged bursts but there's no internal bleeding. Likewise, his face is just one big bruise right now but he can still see.
POP!
Danny jams his right thumb back into place, face inscrutable as he does. After what he's just endured, a dislocated thumb is a blessing right now. It's those deep stab wounds on his arm and leg that are worse, the latter making him limp slightly when he walks. Working quickly, not knowing how soon Diaz and his goons will return, he rips Hectors shirt into strips and bandages them, tight.
Once that's done, he turns glittering eyes onto the prone Pablo Herrera.
(ps. There's still more. ALOT MORE. Keep on waiting, and you will enjoy the end... or hate it. Whatever. No one reads this, so i don't fucking care anymore. Why am i posting? hell if i know.)
User Reviews
Submitted by paint_it_black (user info) at 2006-09-19 01:36:46 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Fuck you are a try hard faggot jonnyx
Submitted by supadupapupa (user info) at 2006-09-19 01:16:49 EDT (#)
Ranking: 1
This one was violent, that's for sure...
Submitted by JonnyX (user info) at 2006-09-18 14:11:52 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
I'm just gonna reach between your legs here and stroke you off real quick and then I have to leave for work, OK Honey?
Submitted by Bob_Dole (user info) at 2006-09-17 05:52:02 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Submitted by nyxmar (user info) at 2006-09-16 18:49:12 (#)
Ranking: 2
Shit you had me when you impaled a guy through his head with a machete
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That too.
Submitted by Bob_Dole (user info) at 2006-09-17 05:49:06 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Bob Dole feels this series contains incredible amounts of cool, awesome, and brutality.
Submitted by nyxmar (user info) at 2006-09-16 18:49:12 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Shit you had me when you impaled a guy through his head with a machete
Submitted by Allyson (user info) at 2006-09-16 16:52:25 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
:)
Submitted by St_Jimmy (user info) at 2006-09-16 14:53:20 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Please keep posting!! This story is truly kicker of all ass!!!
Submitted by Antioxident (user info) at 2006-09-16 09:15:43 EDT (#)
Ranking: 1
No Comment
Submitted by Allyson (user info) at 2006-09-16 01:43:27 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
ugh.. that's from where i copied and pasted from my word doc... just didn't read through it.
thanks.
Submitted by Amontillado (user info) at 2006-09-16 01:28:36 EDT (#)
Ranking: 1
well, and they slink back to their boss.
Diaz checks his watch and shakes his head. Much as he'd love to stay and take this cunt
Diaz checks his watch and shakes his head. Much as he'd love to stay and take this cunt apart, business has to come first, and this is a big night. This is just... a little complication.
Haven't read the whole series so far, but looks promising.