Macc24
League Member
PART ONE
The desert of Albuquerque, New Mexico had never looked so bare. The Pan American Freeway aka the I-25 appeared to be stranded aside from the odd mack truck that would be passing by at an alarming rate... but that's okay seeing as New Mexico's Police Department are among the dirtiest in civilized America.
Haha, civilized... America... same sentance.
Along the shoulder of the I-25 just south of Santa Fe, NM walked a familiar unfamiliar face. It appeared to be the (barely) living (hardly) breathing (derranged) skeleton of Brock Alyas - who was obviously victim of, either a nearly fatal car accident or a man who'd seen his life flash before his eyes far too many times.
Brock had never looked worse, believe it or not.
Barely recognizable, he stalked the freeway hoping he was headed in the right direction - to civilization. A man who had obviously been on the road far too long he looked like he should have expired months ago. A greasy wife beater lined his malnourished corpse that was at one time skin tight, now looked baggy and rusted... like it could use a swift bleach wash.
Just when a look of desperation spiked with agony crossed his face and all the hope in his eyes looked like it'd been drained... Brock hawked a fresh loogie that contained 90% blood 5% spit and 5% tequila, at the nearest cactus when he looked up and saw what would be the first sign of life he'd seen in miles.
A junk, beat up Ford F150 was parked 500 metres ahead and even Brock could realize that this ride couldn't be out here in the middle of nowhere, unless there was something suspicious going on. Brock decided his appearance would not only terrify the proud, but would also potentially attract some needed attention from a female. Brock has always been a terrific manipulator.
He approached the vehicle, without any idea of who would be behind the wheel. As he inched closer, thoughts of what he would do, how he would approach what would've been the first form of life he'd seen in miles.
Low and behold, rested a trio of junkies who were suffering from argueably equal withdrawl symptoms as our hero - except they weren't seasoned vets in the art of living with just enough opiates / stimulates in your body to keep you alive. There was no hiding that these teens were knee-deep in ****. The dashboard of their F150 dubbed as a weed rolling tray, cocaine buffet bucket and hosted all sorts of heroin paraphenalia... Brock couldn't have hit the jackpot harder.
Brock was now only feet away from the vehicle, realizing in the passenger sat a female... attempting to fight the demons that were a thousand pound gorilla that had her in a full mount. Her boyfriend, the driver of the vehicle was in the fetal position with his front seat reclined back and making it uncomfortable for the half-dead waste of life laying across the back seats.
Making sure the passenger of the vehicle was awake, Brock faked a limp and right when he got to the car, collapsed behind it in hopes that she would notice him.
That she did, as she panicked and wondered not only who in the **** this shady character was but the feminine side in her wondered if he was okay... afterall he did face plant into gravel stone.
She opened the door and rushed out, a burst of life surged threw her as you could tell this girl was well directed simply just in the wrong place at the wrong time, mixed in with the wrong crowd.
"Scott! Wake up! Wake up! This guys going to die!!!"
Brock remained motionless...
The girl went to the driver side window to try and wake up her boyfriend and immediately he noticed her strange sense of urgency, so he tried to shake the demons away and handle the situation. Ever the alpha male, the bonerack slowly got out of the car wondering what it was his girlfriend was screaming about.
She dragged him to move faster but there was a certain pace any junkie could move at after your first month long binge of opiate drug experimentation. Tired and lifeless, he got out of the car and walked over to where his girlfriend was pointing. Just like a scene out of a horror movie... this mystery man had gotten up... and just like in a scene out of a horror movie... the girl shreaked as the boyfriend became annoyed not having seen what she had.
And just as he opened his mouth, Brock came out from hiding on the passenger side of the car and let the kid see his mangled, bloody face before he wrapped his hand around the kids neck, strangling the life out of this girls boyfriend. Brock locked eyes with this girl who gasped for air.
After a solid ten seconds of Brock's constant increase of pressure resulted in the kids pharynx and larynx being crushed and smooshed into eachother... Brock released his grip on the kid who was without a doubt... dead.
His girlfriend was terrified beyond belief, to the point that despite what had just occured... she remained silent throughout the entire process. Brock approached the car, but she was standing in the way and she would quickly retreat out of fear and desperation. Brock's signature stone cold facial expression remained as he approached the car like the Michael Myers-esque stalk he's ever so known for and reached in the back of the car and pulled the lifeless bum out of the back. Half awake and half dead, Brock held the other kid up with his right hand and his left sent a crashing overhand right that probably very well ended his life as well.
By this time, the girl was hysterical and terrified. Brock quickly looked in the car before finding empty syringes... he knew there had to be something left. The girl, who was curled up in a ball using the border of the car as a barracade from Brock was seized by her left wrist as she weeped. Brock pulled his own syringe out of his back pocket and the grip he had on her wrist was enough to make the veins in her forearm poke out.
Brock slowly inserted the needle into the girls arm and he'd have been staring directly into her eyes had she not forced them shut out of fear. Brock injected about a quarter of the china white heroin into the girl and shortly a feeling of euphoria crept over the girl and Brock let her momentum carry her to the ground.
"At least I shared..."
TO BE CONTINUED
The desert of Albuquerque, New Mexico had never looked so bare. The Pan American Freeway aka the I-25 appeared to be stranded aside from the odd mack truck that would be passing by at an alarming rate... but that's okay seeing as New Mexico's Police Department are among the dirtiest in civilized America.
Haha, civilized... America... same sentance.
Along the shoulder of the I-25 just south of Santa Fe, NM walked a familiar unfamiliar face. It appeared to be the (barely) living (hardly) breathing (derranged) skeleton of Brock Alyas - who was obviously victim of, either a nearly fatal car accident or a man who'd seen his life flash before his eyes far too many times.
Brock had never looked worse, believe it or not.
Barely recognizable, he stalked the freeway hoping he was headed in the right direction - to civilization. A man who had obviously been on the road far too long he looked like he should have expired months ago. A greasy wife beater lined his malnourished corpse that was at one time skin tight, now looked baggy and rusted... like it could use a swift bleach wash.
Just when a look of desperation spiked with agony crossed his face and all the hope in his eyes looked like it'd been drained... Brock hawked a fresh loogie that contained 90% blood 5% spit and 5% tequila, at the nearest cactus when he looked up and saw what would be the first sign of life he'd seen in miles.
A junk, beat up Ford F150 was parked 500 metres ahead and even Brock could realize that this ride couldn't be out here in the middle of nowhere, unless there was something suspicious going on. Brock decided his appearance would not only terrify the proud, but would also potentially attract some needed attention from a female. Brock has always been a terrific manipulator.
He approached the vehicle, without any idea of who would be behind the wheel. As he inched closer, thoughts of what he would do, how he would approach what would've been the first form of life he'd seen in miles.
Low and behold, rested a trio of junkies who were suffering from argueably equal withdrawl symptoms as our hero - except they weren't seasoned vets in the art of living with just enough opiates / stimulates in your body to keep you alive. There was no hiding that these teens were knee-deep in ****. The dashboard of their F150 dubbed as a weed rolling tray, cocaine buffet bucket and hosted all sorts of heroin paraphenalia... Brock couldn't have hit the jackpot harder.
Brock was now only feet away from the vehicle, realizing in the passenger sat a female... attempting to fight the demons that were a thousand pound gorilla that had her in a full mount. Her boyfriend, the driver of the vehicle was in the fetal position with his front seat reclined back and making it uncomfortable for the half-dead waste of life laying across the back seats.
Making sure the passenger of the vehicle was awake, Brock faked a limp and right when he got to the car, collapsed behind it in hopes that she would notice him.
That she did, as she panicked and wondered not only who in the **** this shady character was but the feminine side in her wondered if he was okay... afterall he did face plant into gravel stone.
She opened the door and rushed out, a burst of life surged threw her as you could tell this girl was well directed simply just in the wrong place at the wrong time, mixed in with the wrong crowd.
"Scott! Wake up! Wake up! This guys going to die!!!"
Brock remained motionless...
The girl went to the driver side window to try and wake up her boyfriend and immediately he noticed her strange sense of urgency, so he tried to shake the demons away and handle the situation. Ever the alpha male, the bonerack slowly got out of the car wondering what it was his girlfriend was screaming about.
She dragged him to move faster but there was a certain pace any junkie could move at after your first month long binge of opiate drug experimentation. Tired and lifeless, he got out of the car and walked over to where his girlfriend was pointing. Just like a scene out of a horror movie... this mystery man had gotten up... and just like in a scene out of a horror movie... the girl shreaked as the boyfriend became annoyed not having seen what she had.
And just as he opened his mouth, Brock came out from hiding on the passenger side of the car and let the kid see his mangled, bloody face before he wrapped his hand around the kids neck, strangling the life out of this girls boyfriend. Brock locked eyes with this girl who gasped for air.
After a solid ten seconds of Brock's constant increase of pressure resulted in the kids pharynx and larynx being crushed and smooshed into eachother... Brock released his grip on the kid who was without a doubt... dead.
His girlfriend was terrified beyond belief, to the point that despite what had just occured... she remained silent throughout the entire process. Brock approached the car, but she was standing in the way and she would quickly retreat out of fear and desperation. Brock's signature stone cold facial expression remained as he approached the car like the Michael Myers-esque stalk he's ever so known for and reached in the back of the car and pulled the lifeless bum out of the back. Half awake and half dead, Brock held the other kid up with his right hand and his left sent a crashing overhand right that probably very well ended his life as well.
By this time, the girl was hysterical and terrified. Brock quickly looked in the car before finding empty syringes... he knew there had to be something left. The girl, who was curled up in a ball using the border of the car as a barracade from Brock was seized by her left wrist as she weeped. Brock pulled his own syringe out of his back pocket and the grip he had on her wrist was enough to make the veins in her forearm poke out.
Brock slowly inserted the needle into the girls arm and he'd have been staring directly into her eyes had she not forced them shut out of fear. Brock injected about a quarter of the china white heroin into the girl and shortly a feeling of euphoria crept over the girl and Brock let her momentum carry her to the ground.
"At least I shared..."
TO BE CONTINUED