Dark shadows plagued the night. As the rain dripped over the city. The atmosphere was gloomy with the only source of light being the street lights. The sound of the rushing traffic keeps the city life alive, despite its deadly secrets.
An ominous figure walks to a clearing. Covering his face in a dark long cloak. His face, pale white, caused by the cold night. His hot breath, puffing out in small warm clouds. His polished shoes drenched in the rain, not giving a damn about anything.
He abruptly stops near a wall. He whispers to his left.
"Kill him. If he breathes another breath. I will not hesitate to kill YOU, personally. Do I make myself clear?" He menacingly said.
The figure behind the wall gulped. Knowing his life was on the line.
"You got it boss"
With that the mysterious figure walks away, knowing his wish will be fulfilled.
-
Meanwhile, Dean Levitt walks out of his apartment. Things aren't going so well. Everything is in shambles. The young man was a handsome, 6'2", amazing hazel like eyes, with a jawline strong enough to cut someone. Anyone would ask, how would someone who look like him would be in such financial struggle.
He owed money to so many people, and yet being unemployed has become his go to routine. Always having issues concerning his employer. Butting heads on every minuscule thing. He was considered childish but that's only because he loves to mess with people's nerves. It's just his personality, joyful, happy personality. Despite his unfortunate life, it never stopped him from messing around, here and there.
He believes that his "teenage rebellion" lived on to his late twenties. But who can blame him. It's his way of living.
He walks himself to the nearest corner store. He was drenched in his leather jacket. The rain dampening his hair.
"Damn" he thought to himself "I just dried my hair too. I should've brought an umbrella."
He crosses the street. Until a random truck, speeds by and splashing a huge puddle on him.
"YOU SON OF A BITCH! CAN'T YOU SEE I'M WALKING HERE!" Dean screams. Not like he was some kind of an angel.
His wet clothes were starting to be uncomfortable. Could his luck get any worse? Of course it can. When he realizes his last check from his previous job was still in his pocket; uncashed and now completely wet, to the point that the handwriting can't be recognize.
"Fuck my life" Dean mutters, knowing there was no hope in checking if it was okay. He pulls his jacket on tighter, it definitely got colder. His beat up sneakers patted the wet ground as he walked down the street.
No job, no money, no luck. Might as well just become homeless. Dean knew he wouldn't have enough money to pay for rent. And he is definitely going to get kicked out of his apartment this time. It was his 6th time having this situation. Only reason he was able to stay as long as he did, was because he pushed his pride and cold heart and flirted with the landlord's daughter into staying a couple more years. But ever since she moved in with her current boyfriend, the landlord's wife has been waiting for an opportunity like this to kick Dean out.
Not knowing his faith. He walks slowly. Contemplating his next move, he needed to figure out how to pay for his debts and be able to provide food for himself and at least get a shelter for a few months.
As he walks alone on the sidewalk, Dean suddenly feels chills go up his back. Usually when that happens, he would stop what he's doing and look around. However, with his mind clouded with thoughts, he didn't care much about the unsettling feeling.
Dean looks up and sees the big sign that he was looking for. Carlos' Cavern. His body shuddered, he shouldn't have came here. Not like this. He knew he wasn't allowed to step one foot in this place. As memories rolled back at the time he used to hang out here with his so called "friends" and him drinking himself to an oblivion. He swore to never go here ever again after that one night where he witnessed the "incident".
Too dazed in his past, Dean shakes himself out of his thoughts. And continues to walk pass Carlos' Cavern.
Dean failed to realize that he was definitely being followed. He being completely consumed in his thoughts were exactly what his stalkers wanted. Vulnerable. Like sitting ducks.
Checking for the perfect time to strike. The three men, stared at their victim. Staring at him as if he were their prey. Ready to pounce any minute.
They trained for this moment. They intricately planned the time for his death. Ready to play God and end the life of a man for which they feel responsible to kill.
So they patiently wait.
Dean walks out of the nearest bookstore. He was hoping he could spend his last $10 on a book he was waiting for; since he already spent $20 on a bunch of junk food that's near his raggedy old bed. However, the store owner sadly told him, that he has to wait a couple more weeks.
Bummed out, he continues his stroll. It was one of those nights. Where you just walk and think about all the mistakes that you made. At some point, Dean didn't even mind the rain. It was like the rain was washing all of his problems. Like a baptism of some sort.
His unfortunate luck decides to strike again, I suppose. For poor Dean didn't see what was coming. Out of the blue, he gets dragged into an alleyway, the dark shadowy figures were ready to fight. Dean tries to push back. Staggering around. But strong arms pulled him back, his struggling were useless. That's where he is stabbed repeatedly. Dean tries to fight back, but every time he tries, he gets another stab.
"Let me go!"
STAB
"Please!"
STAB
"I'm begging you."
STAB
"Set me free"
STAB
Until the final stab to his heart, is where he stops fighting. There was nothing else to do. The job was done.
The man smiled at his work and his men.
He crouches down and stares intently at the dismantled man in front of him. Stabbed so much, that his face was completely filled with blood.
The gore and blood just oozing. As the man, stayed there, holding the bloody sharp knife in his hand.
The snake eye design was impeccable. It was his favorite weapon out of his arsenal. And he knew that this was his calling. The adrenaline that he felt as he stopped the pulse of a man. It felt completely exhilarating.
"Good job, boys" he smirked "We're getting some serious cash tonight"
"Boss is gonna be proud" the bulky, bald, 7ft giant, smiled wide with his yellow teeth.
"Hell he is!! He's been planning this for months!" The wimpy one exclaimed.
"Let's get a drink to celebrate,boys. Junks, light the body up. No evidence left behind." The man says, as he stands up and walks to his trunk, pulling out a torch and a can of gasoline throwing it to Junk, the bulky 7ft giant.
"Sure thing, Max" Junk says with excitement in his eyes. He pours the dangerously flammable liquid and lights the torch then lights the dead body of Dean on fire. As they watched the body burn to ashes. They drive off.
No evidence left behind.
Another job, done for the boss.
What they failed to realize was, the spirit of Dean still lives....just not in his body.
Authors Note
And so it begins.
Hope you enjoy the first chapter.
Remember to vote and comment.
-Alvs ❤️
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Dislocated
Teen Fiction"Your argument is invalid" "You are in my body, therefore you need to shut up" "Well guess what? I'm in charge, so keep your mouth shut before I kill you with my eyes closed" "She's mine though." "Too bad. I don't share" - Mind and body; always...
