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The Darkness Of Today
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M. Lacrimosa
M. Lacrimosa

May-23-2010 09:30

Every second that is wasted on the battlefield in a war, is every second that a wounded soldier is bleeding to death. Every chance a medic got to save a life, they got killed. As I sit in a bar and reminisce about the days in the war, I realized just how much my life changed.

I watched in horror as people died. I held people as they died in my arms. I came home from the war. And no one, not one person, knew the horrors that me and my fellow brothers in arms saw. No one even thanked us for serving our country when we came home. So here I sit, inside this bar with my flask in my hand drowning myself with pure alcohol flashing back to the war.

I start to feel the alcohol taking affect as it runs through my body. Someone comes in and sits down next to me. It is a scum bag of the streets; a scam artist who steels what little money the poor and those in poverty have and keeps it for himself.

"How 'bout it?" He says as he sits down next to me. I merely stare at him and look away. He orders a drink. Gin. He orders shot after shot as I gulp the whiskey from my flask.

"You might want to slow down there, chief." The bartender says.

"Oh shut up!" I snap. I can't even remember his name or the name of the bar I'm in. I then look over at the dirt-bag next to me. How neatly dressed he is. With his crisp hat and pressed suit. I compare myself to him and realize I am dressed no different and smile to myself. But as I sit and stare at him, something in me changes. I become angry. A little voice in my head starts to talk in a dark, deep whisper.

"Do it," it says to me.

"No," I say to it. "I can't do it."

"Yes, you can," it says to me, "you know you want to. He's scum. He won't be missed."

An argument starts in my mind. My pure thoughts fighting that little voice. The small whisper wins.

Something in me snaps and I crack my neck with the turn of my head.

"Hey buddy, you okay?" the scum bag asks.

"I'm fine," I snap.


Molly Maltese
Molly Maltese
Old Shoe

Jun-1-2010 16:15

Everything moved so fast it seemed to Molly that the world was a blur. And then she realized it was because she had been yanked from the place where she was standing to be clasped against her husbands chest, his other arm pointing a gun at Marc.

A human shield. She realized with surprise, then surprise that she was surprised. This was Jack Billings. Of course he wouldn't think twice about using her as a human shield-

she felt his arm move from the kick-back of his gun, he had fired a shot. So had, it seemed, Marc, who had aimed before Billings had pulled Molly in front of him.

White-hot pain exploded high on her right shoulder. She saw Marcs expression of horror before Jack released her and she fell awkwardly to her side.

Oh dear. She thought.

Because someone else had gone crashing to the floor as well.

M. Lacrimosa
M. Lacrimosa

Jun-1-2010 19:26

Marc parked his car in front of Molly's house. Not in her driveway but at the edge of if. Jack Billings' car was there which meant trouble. And Grace's car was there.

"Oh boy.." Marc said. He lit up a cigarette and stepped out of his car. As he walked up the driveway, the two women and Billings stepped out. Billings was not particularly happy to see Marc and Marc wasn't happy to see Billings for he was on the top of Billings hit list.

"Marc, what the hell are you doing here?" Molly asked impatiently.

"Well..I came here to talk-"
"Talk about what?" Billings snapped. "You've killed her brother, shot at her, and now you want to talk? Listen, dick, why don't you go home while I let you live-"

"Billings, shut the f**k up!" Marc snapped.

"Why? What are you going t-...." Billings looked at Marc and then Molly then back to Marc. A smile spread across his face. "Oh I like her don't you, Marc? Oh this is just touching."

In truth, Marc did like Molly. He didn't have any type of crush on her or have "the hosts" for her. The thing was, he liked her personality. He liked how, in the heat of things, they had each others' backs in the past.

"Forget it Marc. She won't forgive you, so go home, and don't talk to her again" Jack said.

"Jack-" Molly started. "Please-"

"She hates you now Marc. And so do I. You are on the top of my hit list, and I'm giving you the chance to go home before I kill you myself."

"Damn it, Jack. I said for you to shut the f**k UP!" Marc snapped. He quickly reached into his coat with both hands and pulled out his pistols and aimed them at Jack.

In quick succession, Jack's pistol was drawn at Marc. Molly pulled two pistols, one at Marc and one at Jack. Grace, not to be left out, pulled her .22 out. Everyone had a gun aimed at each other.

"Well, well, well," Jack said, "Marc wants to play with guns-"
"Jack if you don't shut up-"
"What are you going to do? Shoot me? Go ahead and put one in my leg-"

M. Lacrimosa
M. Lacrimosa

Jun-1-2010 19:40

"I'm not going to put one in your leg, I'm going to shoot you in your f**king mouth!-"

"Then put your money where your mouth is, and do it!" Jack yelled.

Silence filled them. This now the fourth time he had a gun pulled on him. He was ready for any sudden movement by Jack. Marc came to talk to Molly to try and make amends.

But here was Jack Billings, the one man Marc hated more than anyone in the world, making things worse.

For what seemed like minutes was only seconds. Marc's right finger moved for the trigger. Jack saw the twitch and quickly grabbed Molly as a human shield.

"No body move!" A woman screamed from behind Marc.

It was at that instant; Jack grabbing Molly and pulling her in front of him, someone screaming from behind, Marc squeezed the trigger twice rapidly.

The first shot went wild but the second shot hit the wrong target. It ripped through Molly's right shoulder. The bullet exited the back of her shoulder and grazed Billings' arm. Molly fell to the ground, bleeding from her arm. Billings stumbled backwards and pulled the trigger. His bullet too went wild.

Everything happened too fast for Grace McDowd, 29 years old, to react. His stray shot hit her square between the eyes. Blood sprayed from the back of her head and she dropped like a rock.

At the moment her body fell, all hell broke lose. Shots were fired from all directions.

Riza Hawkeye
Riza Hawkeye
First Nomad

Jun-1-2010 20:31

Riza had almost no time to react. Grace was standing just a few feet in front of her. She watched as a stray bullet from Marc’s gun went straight through Grace’s head, exiting out the back and then…

A sharp gasp erupted from Riza’s lips as the bullet continued on its path, straight into her chest, knocking her backwards to the floor. She heard her gun fall with a clatter to the ground beside her.

Her eyes bugged out as she clutched at her chest. Riiiiiiipppp. She tore off her jacket and ripped off the bulletproof vest she had put on earlier that evening. Lodged straight where her heart should have been was the bullet. Riza winced. It hurt like hell anyway.

She heard a groan issue from Marc. He must have gotten hit too. Riza was suddenly, inexplicably angry. This couldn’t happen. Not again. She sprung to her feet and grabbed her pistol, dodging sideways and aiming a couple of shots at both Marc and Biliings. “You f*cking bastards! STOP IT!” Riza screamed at the top of her voice.

As Molly sunk to her knees and stared at her arm in disbelief, the sound of hot metal hitting flesh could be heard in the cool nighttime air. Billings spun backwards and collapsed on the ground, clutching his right arm. Marc gave an excruciating yell and grabbed his midsection, eyes turning red.

Riza hit the ground hard. She saw Molly get up and heard the click of the safety on her gun being released. A lone gunshot rang out. Then Riza blacked out. There was silence.

M. Lacrimosa
M. Lacrimosa

Jun-1-2010 22:38

Marc felt the white hot pain rip through his mid section as a bullet from an unknown gun was fired. He grabbed his side, yelling and falling. The adrenaline rush was too much and Marc staggered back up. Jack Billings also staggered to his feet. Both men shooting at each other. Marc limped behind a tree, where as Jack ran to his car. Marc fired two more shots. One bullet scored a hit and Jack fell but was not dead. Marc didn't want to kill him. Not yet. Jack crawled to his car, bleeding from somewhere in the waste.

He looked around. Riza was there; out cold. Grace was dead. Her beautiful blue eyes, now a cold gray color stare at the sky. Marc knelt down. The pain in his side tore through him and she grunted. He closed her eyes and looked back at Molly who was also unconscious.

"My god," he said as he got closer to her. The bullet damage was bad. She'd be badly scarred for the rest of her life, and it would be a miracle if she didn't get arthritis in her arm because of this. Blood still poured from the wound. It was good and bad.

It was good because that meant she was still alive. But bad because that mean barely. She lost a lot of blood and was now in a state of shock, which caused her to pass out. He hefted her with his one good arm, and placed her in the backseat of his car. He left.

Marc pulled Molly, who was still barely alive, and losing too much blood now, out of his car at the hospital. "My friend here has been badly injured. She needs help, now." Marc said.

Three doctors and two nurses took her immediately. "Sir," another doctor said, "If I may say so, I'd say you need to be looked at."

"I'm fine," Marc said.
"No, you're not" the young doctor said.
After an argument, Marc agreed to have the bullet pulled out with a set of tweezers and six stitches. The bullet had pierced but had not gone very far. It dug into his skin and stopped instead of just grazing like it should have.

M. Lacrimosa
M. Lacrimosa

Jun-1-2010 22:50

Marc went back to Molly's house. Riza was gone. She had probably woke up after he left. She was probably pissed at him for several reasons, one in which he left her here with Grace's body. And well..frankly, she had every right to be mad at him. Grace's body had been removed as well. Investigators and police officers, taped off the scene. Marc turned and left with out a word.

Grace's funeral was two days later. Marc showed up but kept his distance. For an hour, everyone said something good about Grace. Marc looked around but didn't see Riza or Molly. They were probably here but closer up front in some spot he couldn't see. When everyone started to clear the area, Marc made his way toward the casket.

He pulled out of his pocket, a rose and placed it upon the casket. "I'm sorry I put you through this Grace. I'm sorry I let you down." And that was it. He turned, pulling out a cigarillo and lit it walking back to his car.

Unsure if Molly had showed up to Grace's funeral, Marc went back to the hospital to see if Molly was still there. "What room is Molly Maltese in?" Marc asked the receptionist.

"Maltese..Maltese..." She repeated looking at the paper. "It looks like she checked her self out earlier this morning, sir." The young woman said.

Marc nodded and walked away thinking about the past few days. He could never go back to his safe house any more. Not after all this.

Marc went home and changed clothes then went to sit in his office. It was quiet without Grace there to talk to. He sat staring at his desk. In front of him was a piece of paper; blank, and a pen. As much as he wanted to write that note to Molly, he couldn't. She had been through enough. And it was his fault.

He reached into his desk drawer and pulled out a flask full of whiskey and took a big gulp of it. The alcohol burned his throat as he swallowed. After a few large swallows, he could feel the alcohol starting to take affect. He put the flask away.

M. Lacrimosa
M. Lacrimosa

Jun-1-2010 22:54

Marc pulled out his two pistols and unloaded them, placing them in his desk drawer. He sat there in silence for hours, thinking about what he could do. Thinking about what he SHOULD do. He placed his elbows on his table and buried his face in his hands. He didn't cry but he felt every urge to.

He didn't expect Molly to forgive him. If she did, that would be her decision. But the trust..that would be completely different. She wouldn't trust him for a long time. And he knew that. So he accepted that.

Riza would probably be the same. Marc wasn't sure how forgiving either of them were. He had never angered them like this. Let alone, let his anger take control. One thing was for certain. He wasn't about to let that happen again.

Just as Marc was going to pack it in and go home, someone knocked on his door. "Come in," Marc mumbled. The door opened, and in walked a familiar face.

Molly Maltese
Molly Maltese
Old Shoe

Jun-3-2010 10:27

Molly was not in the mood.
She had checked herself out of the hospital earlier that morning, even though her shoulder was killing her and she could use the drugs. No, Molly detested hospitals. The only good things that happened in hospitals were babies being born, and hers had been delivered in a strangers car en route to the place, because back then she hadn't had a dime, a car, or a friend to her name.

So she had license to detest hospitals as much as she liked.

Jack had come by, but she had pretended to be asleep. Thats what she had done for the majority of her friends, in fact. She didn't feel like talking much. She hadn't bothered going to Grace's funeral. The guilt and the anger ate away at her too much.

In fact, within the hour of her release, she was holding two tickets for the ship that would take her to Shanghai, and from there to Cairo. She wouldn't bother saying goodbye, she needed time to herself and her daughter. So she had packed sparsely and locked her apartment door behind her, driving to the docks with a grim face. Her daughter said nothing, just looked ahead with curious eyes.

Brian Flannigan
Brian Flannigan

Jun-3-2010 16:36

It was Dr. Flannigan. He walked in and sat down at Marc's desk. Marc looked up at him. The detective looked like he had gone to hell and back. Flannigan had only knew so much as to what had happened. The only information that was given to him was that something weird had happened to Marc. He changed. He had lost control of his anger. Brian hated to see Marc lose friends such as Molly and Riza. According to them all they had been friends for quite sometime. "We just want out old friend back." They told him.

"Marc." Brian said with a pause. "I'm here to help. You've destroyed your relationship with two of your closest friends and if you want them back then-"

"I'm fine," Marc snapped.
"No you're not." Dr. Flannigan stated. "Marc, you've completely gone off the edge! You've destroyed Ms. Maltese's life!"
"You don't think that I don't know that already?!" Marc yelled back.
"Marc, will you listen to me for just one damned second?"
"Why? So you can tell me how many lives I've ruined?"
Brian sat back in his chair.

"Okay, Marc. What are you going to do?" Brian asked.
"What do you propose I should do?" Marc asked.
"Frankly, I'm not sure, Marc. We can start by talking about your past. What causes you to lose your temper. I was told something about you and a long have you heard that whisper in you head?" Flannigan said.

Marc paused. "Doc..I don't need any help."

The doctor looked down. In the right corner, he noticed a duffel bag. "What's in the bag?"

"Personal items, doc."

"Like what? You planning on leaving?"


"Marc, where do you think you're going?"

"I'm not sure yet."
"You going to leave the country?"
"No..that's a cowardice move. Just leaving the city..I'm not even sure if I"m going to go or not. It's a choice I haven't made yet."

"Marc, I can't let you leave."
"Yes, you can." Marc snapped. Marc got up and walked out of the office leaving Flannigan by himself.

Lyra Cornwallis
Lyra Cornwallis
Lucky Stiff

Jun-4-2010 07:04

Lyra entered the room and looked around. There was no one, except Dr. Flannigan, looking very anxious. Lyra walked up to where he was sitting, clutching his head in his hands.
"Dr. Flannigan?" she asked.
He looked up. Apparently he hadn't heard her entering the room, and was startled at the sound of her voice.
"Oh - hello, Miss - er - er" Flannigan stopped.
"Cornwallis. Lyra Cornwallis," said Lyra. "Please call me Lyra."
Flannigan nodded. "I have seen you before, haven't I? About a couple of weeks ago... near Marc's house, if I'm right."
"You must be mistaken, I haven't been anywhere near Marc's house before," replied Lyra.
Flannigan looked bewildered. "Surely it was you? But -" he faltered. "Was it your twin, Louise, then?"
Lyra didn't reply. She just looked at him for a few seconds and finally said: "Could be. I don't know where she'd gone, so I can't be sure. But what is this about Marc leaving the country, Flannigan?"
Flannigan heaved a sigh. "It's a long story, Lyra. Sit down," he said, and started telling her everything that had happened. "... and so I have no idea whether Marc plans to leave or not. I -"
"Quiet!" Lyra interrupted. "Someone's coming."
She turned around,but couldn't see anyone. Then she could hear footsteps again. She drew out her gun, and stood ready with her finger on the trigger. Marc stood with his left hand on the door's handle, and his right hand on his gun. But he made no move that showed he was going to start firing at her or Flannigan.
"Lyra Cornwallis," Marc said. But he didn't say anything else. He just stood there.
Flannigan looked at Marc questioningly. "What's your decision?" he asked.
"I'm not leaving; I'm not a coward. I will stay here, in this country, in this city. But not in the same house," he finally said. "And take this bag," he added, looking at Lyra. "I have put in a few items, and there are two notes there. One for Riza and the other for Molly. Give them the notes." He left. Lyra followed him.

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