Hello all! WIP update! Wow it's been crazy. Anyhow, I finished a painting that pairs with a chapter for ya!!! 'The Fall of Jimmy Garudo'. Well, back to the daily grind lol. See ya when I got some more to post. Catch y'all on the flipside!
Trigger Warnings Ahead: Gore, Graphic Bloody Violence
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Detective James Garudo still felt the ripping of his flesh from the knife, but he simply couldn't run anymore. He collapsed against the pile of filled trash bags, the humid plastic sticking to his dark suit like some external skin. The detective would have certainly been amused at the irony if he wasn't so afraid of dying. 'Afterall, wasn't that why he was in this mess?' he thought, struggling to haul himself up using the sturdy aluminum trash cans that braced all the garbage. It all seemed to gleam harshly in the garish neon and dirty colored sky perpetually marked by clouds. James tried to keep pressure on the wound on his stomach, but everything was starting to feel hazy. Sweat beaded on his brow and he looked at the wound. The blood pouring from it soaked his nice black suit, making it look more like oil than blood. Lightning flashed across the sky, a peal of thunder that made the city's aura go from watchful to wrathful as a silhouetted figure sauntered his way into the alley, stepping over mounds of garbage as their glasses glinted in pursuit of their target.
The sillhouette's voice was steady and controlled, muffled beneath the bundle of dark clothing and thick scarf that enshrouded them, when they next addressed James. "Damn beast. You had to run, didn't you? Pity."
James looked frantically for a way out, but a heavy padlocked gate was the only other exit and it was chained shut. James wasn't afraid of the watchful gaze of the city. He wasn't afraid of the underlying anger that it always seemed to have. He had done everything for this city. He had given up just as much. Certainly, he'd made some mistakes but who hadn't? James had a second chance to make the world better and James was afraid not only of dying.
James was afraid of dying without having done enough to save the city. The silhouette strode closer, methodically striding and indulging in the fear that they instilled in James. He had felt it and he couldn't take it anymore.
'Afterall what else was the point of mortality but attempting to achieve something, anything, before one's fear of dying is realized?'
"P-please. I h-have a family…" James said, spluttering from fear and shock as he looked past the barrel of a sleek black gun that had been pointed almost casually in his face and into the eyeglasses that glinted with the light of neon and lightning.
The sillhouette's voice was laced with the coldest amusement and James was certain they were smiling beneath the dark scarf.
James never saw the sillhouette pull the trigger, but he knew. It felt like an eternity between his last heartbeats when finally everything went white and then everything was gone.
