bounties blood

[Kingpin]

the following won the not very creative award !!!!!!

Life without parents, without knowledge of ones origin can truly be a life of sorrow. Or one can take the needed steps to change that fact. To change the circumstances of a situation. A situation which a person didn’t control in the past.

Questions plague my mind every day. Why am I here? What is my purpose? However instead of falling victim to the unavoidable questions I attempt to find answers. Answers that are capable of changing my life, my future. My name is Spade Black and I won’t die not knowing where I came from.

My search for the truth won’t end until I find what I am looking for. Regrettably traveling like every thing else in this purgatory called earth cost money. Money that once spent doesn’t return to the person who spent it unless they work for it. Quick money is virtually impossible to obtain. I learned that lesson long ago and now the only way I know to receive the cash I require is to employ my self in the thankless task of bounty hunting. .

This time I found my self stranded at a bus deport in the heart of New York City. The smell of the smoggy air itself sickened me. I couldn’t believe how so many mindless drones called New Yorkers could allow their families to live in such filth.

Upon stepping off the bus I turned to the driver “I envy you. You are lucky enough to drive out of this rat hole in a few hours.”

The driver cringed as I spoke. He seemed insulted at my mockery. Enraged he blurted, “Yea, well same to you pale.” The driver then slammed the door of his bus.

I watched as he released the door handle. It dropped to the floor. As the fool realized he damaged his own bus his face turned bright red. I removed my shades and laughed at him. The driver glared into my teary eyes. With undue haste the man mashed the accelerator and raced away. Still giddy from the hilarious act I placed my shades in the pocket of my trench coat. After all only the truly stupid wore their sunglasses at night.

Alone once again I hiked until I could no longer see anyone. I desired the privacy of a hotel room, however that required money. I leaned up against a building in what I appeared as an abandoned ally. A cold breeze glided along the road ways. I needed to check my equipment before I continued. I opened my wallet and nothing but miniature moths escaped from the bill fold. Not even the memory of money lingered in the wallet. “So much for that hotel,” I cried as I returned the wallet to its hiding place inside my trench coat. I checked my entire stock of equipment one at a time I found everything in order. My cold pistol slept loaded in its holster, my extra ammo clung on to my extra clip ready to be loaded and fired.

With all of my equipment in order I faced the cold dark ally. It was shorted then taking the main street to the post office. A bad feeling loomed over me as I started down the ally. A sense of danger made itself known. Quickly passing it off for undue paranoia I marched down the dark ally.

The ally seemed as long as an interstate freeway. I continued walking, the further I got the bigger the feeling of danger grew. My worst fears lingered in my mind. Nervously I proceeded. About a mile into the ally way I saw the light at the end of the tunnel. A sense of relief flooded over me and the feeling of danger vanished.

I neared the end of the ally when seemingly out of nowhere a punk kid with a flock of seagull’s hair cut and excruciatingly bad body odor cut off my path. “Where do you think you’re going so fast?” the kid questioned.

I glanced behind me and too my dismay the kid had friends. Another guy and two girls stood directly behind me. The second guy smelled of cheep beer and he had a difficult time balancing his colossal green Mohawk. The females were obviously of the paid company variety. “Look kid,” I spoke in an angry tone, “My day didn’t go very well. It would be wise of you to step aside and let me go.”

Laughing the punk nearly cried as he attempted to reply. “You clearly don’t understand the situation your in do you old man?” The punk in front of me pulled the blade of a Swiss army knife out and waved it around in a threatening matter. “Now,” he chuckled as he waved the knife, “empty your pockets.”

I grew angry with his futile attempt to mug me. Fuming I reached under my coat and gripped the cold steal of my pistol. A mere second latter I pointed it at his head. My extreme speed rivaled that of the comic book super hero the flash. “Look kid,” I barked with authority, “You have two choices. Option A, you leave here and I forget about you. Option B, I make you.”

The punk kid froze. He didn’t know how to react to a threat. Obviously he had never experienced it himself. The other kid didn’t move. The alcohol prevented him from realizing what events were taking place.

Impatiently I fired a round into the air to show that I met business. Then I just glared at the punk with my finger on the trigger.

A moment latter the kids fled the scene in a state of panic. Perhaps in the future they would think twice before jumping a seemingly helpless man in an alley.

When the idiotic punks left my vision I jogged to the Post office. It started to get cold.
When I arrived at the post office I glanced around. The only other person around slept in the corner. He smelled of vodka and cheep cologne. This city had the saddest inhabitants I ever had the misfortune too witnessed. From my view every single person living in this hell hole had some sort of a problem.

I yawned and moseyed to the bulletin board. Quickly I discovered the only bounty head currently in the city. The police posted a bounty of ten-thousand dollars on a man named Kyle Tolbin. I sighed a nervous sigh because the officials also posted information on the guy. Normally information would be welcomed, however this information spelt out the hardship that I had little choice but to deal with to capture this guy. This Mr. Tolbin turned out as a former government agent. At one time this man worked as a spy, and that meant a master of disguise. Annoyed at this I tore down the poster announcing this mans bounty.

Disturbed by the only possible bounty being a former spy I stormed out of the post office door. No work could be done tonight even in a city that never slept. I needed to locate a place to spend the night. I needed some sort of shelter.

I wondered the city in search of a place to stay. Finally I reached Central Park. The smoggy smell of the city seemed lessened here as if the plants in the park drove the noxious smell away.

I sneaked in to the park which according to the sign didn’t open for about 5 hours. Slowly I creped past the swings and the sand box. I eyeballed the park from where I stood. I saw nothing much at first just children’s play toys and a few benches. However after looking long enough I saw storage shed. I approached the structure cautiously not knowing if a night watch man patrolled the park or not. When I could see the door I found a lock. Upon examining it I learned that this type of lock received high marks in its security test. I didn’t have the skill to pick it let alone to pick it with time to sleep. Frustrated I grabbed my pistol and shot the lock. I could finally sleep.

I passed out in side the freezing shed. The bitter cold air froze my body and prevented sleep from coming with ease. It took me about an hour of tossing and turning to finally lure myself to sleep.

The next morning I awoke to the sound of laughing children. I detested that sound. Children had an uncanny ability to annoy me to no ends. They just didn’t shut up. I suppose that is why I never settled down. Even when Donna Siphon fell for me. I don’t know how or why but she begged me to remain in Dallas with her. I couldn’t do that then and I couldn’t now. When I left Denver she followed me. Striving to be with me whenever she could. At this point I hadn’t seen her for about a month. I didn’t think much of it. After all she probable gave up.

After thinking for a little bit my thoughts cleared and I prepared to move on and find this Kyle Tobin. Bursting with energy I tiptoed out of the cramped shed I spent the night in. Confidently I made my way to the nearest phone booth.

[Kingpin]

When I entered the phone booth I probed my pockets for a piece of paper I received from a friend. His name was Jim Coughca. Jim helped me out of a hole I dug for myself a few months back and he had became a dear friend of mine. Jim told me if I ever traveled to New York I should look up his son Brent Coughca. Apparently Brent at one point hacked in to the Russian spy satellite and used it to spy on the girl next door. I really didn’t care to know anymore details, however with his suburb hacking skills he could undoubtedly locate this Kyle Tolbin.

After digging around in my pockets for a few minuets I finally found the piece of paper containing Brent’s phone number. Calling collect to his home phone seemed futile because he didn’t know me. However after calling numerous times I finally got the angry Brent to answer his phone. “Who the hell are you?” Brent screamed into the phone.

“My name is Spade Back,” I spoke in a soft tone, “I am a friend of your fathers. He told me if I ever needed help I could call you.”

“My old man sent you?” Brent questioned. “Well Einstein if you know him so well how you did met my father?”

“Jim helped my out of a tough spot back in Denver.” Exasperated I took an annoyed tone. “Hey, I don’t have time to play twenty questions with you. I need you to help me find some information.”

I heard Brent sigh on the other end of the phone. After a moment of silence Brent finally gave in. “Alright, I can help you. Come to my apartment the address is 23564 W. Blanchard road, apartment number seven on the second floor.” He hung up after he gave me the address.

When I arrived at Brent’s apartment the first half of the day had passed. Time no longer cooperated with me. Impatiently I beat the door with astounding force. Seconds latter a groggy Brent answered the door.

“Spade, I assume?” Brent inquired.

With a hearty smile, I replied, “Yes, my full name is Spade Black. Your father proved to himself as a rather good friend. I hope the same happens with the two of us.”

Brent grinned a doubting look flooded his face. “I don’t have friends.” He barked. His face melted into a welcoming look. “Come on in, we have a lot of work to do.”

Cautiously I waltzed into Brent apartment. The room contained enough computers and other electronic devices to run a small country. Wires reached to the floor from the ceiling and phone cords engulfed the floor like wild vines in a jungle.

Brent smiled in delight. He obviously took a lot of pride in all of his computers and the massive amounts of equipment. “On the phone you said you needed to information.” Brent recalled. “What do you need to find out?”

Shifting my attitude from the awe of Brent’s computers to a serious business attitude I quickly found an empty chair. “I am chasing the bounty of a man named Kyle Tolbin.” My eyes narrowed as I told Brent the whole sad story of my time wasted in New York. “Now, I must find out where I can find this vile criminal in order to collect his bounty.

Brent held is head high as he turned to face the intense glow of the computer screens. With his back facing me he replied, “This shouldn’t be a problem. I well simply run through police records and other syndicate connections. If he has been active in any way I’ll find him.”

An hour of silence passed. The only sound of Brent’s flying fingers viciously typing at the keyboard graced the room. Finally the sound of Brent’s voice shattered the silence. “I got him!” Brent exclaimed.

Bursting with eagerness I bolted from my chair and I nearly ran to Brent’s side. “Where is he?” I demanded.

Brent sighed, “If you’re trying to catch him then you’re not going to like this. He has taken allied himself with the Black Fox Crime syndicate. It is going to be virtually impossible to catch him as long as he cowers in the dark halls of the syndicate building.”

Disgusted I replied in a barley audible voice, “Get me the address of the syndicate building. I think it’s time I paid a little visit.

With the address in my hands I left Brent’s small apartment building and walked to the location of the local Black market. Brent told me I could find almost any weapon I desired at that rat hole. I only had one obstacle stood between me and the artillery I required. I didn’t have the money. However to avoid this I made myself willing to stoop to a low I never thought possible. I figured they stole it to begin with so I figured what goes around comes around.

Twenty minuets of mindless walking towards the market finally paid off with my arrival at the black market. The countless evil merchants trying to pass millions of tainted goods gave me the desire to spew multi colored chunks all over the polluted side walk. Repressing that urge I proceeded to a table holding an AR33 assault rifle and a rather large box holding twenty grenades I stared at them until all the other possible buyers vanished from sight. The second I found myself alone I slipped the weapons under my trench coat and with haste I sprinted away from the market.

Taking asylum in an abandoned building next door I fitted my bullets into the AR33 and I fastened the grenades to my belt. Taking a deep breath I prayed. I needed all the help I could obtain for such a task. Finally when my preparations were complete I stepped outside of the building. The time had come. I peered at the paper on which I had written the address of the Black Fox syndicate down on. I no longer had time to waste. Securing the rifle to my shoulder I ran to the syndicate.

The jog to the syndicate afforded me time to recap my thoughts and finally get them in order. “Currently,” I thought, “I am chasing a nearly impossible bounty head to get me the money I so desperately need. I stole weapons from the black market and now I am about to attack an entire building in order to catch one man.” While I thought this a smile fought itself onto my face. “Oh what a tangled web I weave.” I spoke aloud as I reached the door to the syndicate building.

I entered the building and approached the secretary’s desk. I noticed the receipting room contained 2 stair cases on either side of the secretary’s desk. An elevator rested at the top of the stairs. Also another flight of stairs leading to another floor. The secretary looked about 20 and he seemed to have gender issues. It was obviously a man however he wore a business suite most people would expect to be worn by a female.

When the confused boy saw me he nervously coughed, “May I help you sir?”

Laughing a replied, “Have you seen Kyle Tolbin?”

Upon hearing this name the kid pressed a button on the bottom of his desk.

Within seconds several waves of guards came trampling down the stairs. I dove behind a pillar and causally tossed a grenade into the mass of armed guards. As soon as I braced myself the grenade let louse with an earth shaking explosion. Firmly I gripped my newly acquired AR33 and I jumped out from behind the pillar. I met little resistance as I charged up the stairs. One elite guard fired down upon me. I took careful aim and fired a spread of bullets. I hit him in the throat. Before falling lifeless the guard fired one last from his pistol. The bullet flew with precision and it pierced my right leg. I grasped my leg in pain as my crimson blood poured out on to the clean red carpet. I limped up to the dead guard’s corpse and removed his shirt. “I hope you don’t mind,” I muttered as I used the black t-shirt to dress my throbbing wound.

After coving the hole in my leg I limped in to the elevator and took it too the top floor. The doors opened and I pointed my rifle out the door. A single man stood in the room awaiting me. His back still turned to me I stepped out of the elevator. “Kyle Tolbin. I haven’t seen your face and yet I know it is you.” I commanded.

Kyle turned to face me and laughed. “I see you’re the great bounty hunter currently hunting me. Good luck taking me. Your leg is injured, and if you kill me you kill the bounty.”

Raising my rifle I grunted, “You poster said dead or alive.” The second I finished speaking I pulled the trigger I launched a bullet into the man's head. It was over.