Ultimate Paradise

Creative Work => User Based Stories => Topic started by: Spring-Loaded on 06 October, 2008, 02:43:17 pm

Title: One month after the incident at Saint Manuel-Florentino Children's Hospital
Post by: Spring-Loaded on 06 October, 2008, 02:43:17 pm
Lieutenant Kevin's face was flushed red; not only because of the fact he had been tied upside down within this abandoned Sprite factory for hours, but in part due to the glistening, serrated blade being held under his eye by the man in front of him. Despite his freely bleeding wounds, he still managed to generate some bass in his voice.

"Th-they'll find you!! And they won't waste time with arresting you, reading you your rights....they'll tear you apart...." the lieutenant spat through broken teeth.

"Rip me apart like I did those children last month?" the Kevin's torturer said in a matter-of-fact manner as he stood calmly, half lit by the moonlight slicing through the darkness within the factory.

"......you sick ****......you'll burn in Hell for this....you....you freak! You MANIAC!!"

At this, the man started as if being doused with a cold bucket of unmentionable substance; he drew a deep, long breath with an air of incredulity. He swiftly gagged the lieutenant and brought his face close to his own.

"What did you call me?..... a 'Maniac?'......."

Kevin breathed as hard as he could through his bloodied, broken nose; his eyes wide in helpless desperation.

"......I like the sound of that name."

The screams would never be heard and would only be assumed to have existed by the investigators the next morning.

Title: Re: One month after the incident at Saint Manuel-Florentino Children's Hospital
Post by: ganonfloyd on 21 October, 2008, 09:53:14 pm
*still waiting for this to continue/for a response for our battle...*

Title: Re: One month after the incident at Saint Manuel-Florentino Children's Hospital
Post by: Judgment Angel Zero on 26 November, 2008, 09:25:03 pm

Title: Re: One month after the incident at Saint Manuel-Florentino Children's Hospital
Post by: Spring-Loaded on 26 November, 2008, 10:53:56 pm
"You know what I do in times such as these?"

"N-.....no...I don't."

"It's okay; you shouldn't know. You're new and if you had known, I'd have been real creeped out."

"......I'm sorry...."

"That was a joke."

"Oh......heh....ha ha..."

"Yes, I'm hilarious. So, what I do to cope with stuff like this is....play this."

".....a PSP? Okay.....what game is that? Lumines?....Ah, alright. So that's why the other guys call you that...."

"That's quite clever of you; you should become a detective."


"Ouch. I guess I'm not that funny."

"....hm? No, no....it's not you....it's just.....I just spoke to him yesterday. He has family; he told me about his younger brother's softball team making it to the finals....now he's....oh God...."

"I'll be straight with you; you'll never get over seeing things like this by letting it get to you. Find something that will take your mind off of it if you can't deal with it head on."

"......I'll try."

Blood still drips off of Kevin's unrecognizable, upside-down corpse and creates ripples in the small puddle below as the forensics team attempts to find anything at all that can tie this murder to the countless others previous. Almost the entire precinct stands around within the warehouse now lit-up by the morning sun, all staring in the direction of what was left of Kevin with mixed expressions of fury and horror or looking anywhere else, holding back tears for their friend. Lieutenant 'Lumines' and the trench-coat wearing detective stand stand a few meters away; one of the CSI members waves for Lumines to come closer.

"By going on what we've gathered here, it's definitely our guy; the wounding is as jagged as the ones on the other victims. The killer used a serrated knife on this guy just like the others.....we do some more tests, perhaps DNA. We can do some cross referencing with any possible suspects that you guys have...."

"We don't have any, miss," Lumines replies calmly. "I know I'm not supposed to divulge any of this, but we simply have no clue who this man is. All that we can do is try to find a motive that could point us in the right direction....I'm sorry, I'm rambling. Thanks miss....."

"Zelda. That's what I go by, anyways....I'm....sorry for your friend. We're all doing our best to help catch this guy."

The CSI goes back to her work; Lumines walks outside, the detective follows him out with a note pad in hand.

"Alright.....what cases had Kevin.....had the victim been involved in lately?"

Lumines sighs, "He had said something last week about the children's hospital case; you know the one, right?"

The detective nods somberly.

"Well, he spoke about it as if he was assigned to the case and then some; he talked about how we 'let it happen' and that there would be a reckoning for it. I didn't think anything of it, mainly because everyone was torn up to some degree by what happened."

"Hm.....'k; do you know who his partner was?"

"Yes. Lieutenant Guy. He's.....not here today. I'm not sure why."

"Do you think I could visit him at his house?" the detective inquires, "I'd like to speak with him."

"Of course you can.....you think he has some connection to all of this?"

"I think everything is connect to some degree..." the detective replies.

"Sound thinking. So, are you okay?"

"I'll be okay once this guy goes down."

Lumines smiles humorlessly as Zelda yells "HEY! You guys may want to take a look at this!!"

Every last one of the officers quit whatever each of them were doing, be it questioning people who worked nearby at the time of the murder or just contemplating what they were going to do to the one responsible, and ran towards where Kevin still hanged from the support beam.

"At the base of his neck....you'll have to lift his head away from the beam..."

Lumines places on a pair of latex gloves and carefully moves Kevin's head so that they can see the message that carries much more weight than any letter could.



"Is it.... a warning?" the CSI asks.

"No; a promise," says Lumines, "call dispatch, we need people at Lieutenant Guy's house immediately!"

Miles away, two suitcases slam down onto a table in a bustling diner, a gun smuggler smiles, and Inspector Gaffit's fingers tighten around the pearl handle of his custom .475 Wildey Magnum of which he's sure will be used to it's fullest this evening.

Title: Re: One month after the incident at Saint Manuel-Florentino Children's Hospital
Post by: Judgment Angel Zero on 27 November, 2008, 11:24:23 am
I am satisfied. =)

Title: Re: One month after the incident at Saint Manuel-Florentino Children's Hospital
Post by: ganonfloyd on 02 December, 2008, 11:30:36 pm
*finishes eating portion of the story. Use snapkin to clean face, places silverware down on the table*

Mmmmm.... delectacle. However, I can't help but feel like I am not yet fully satiated with this morsel of a story.

Title: Re: One month after the incident at Saint Manuel-Florentino Children's Hospital
Post by: Spring-Loaded on 29 July, 2010, 01:30:50 am
Sunday afternoons in St. Manuel Florentino usually aren't peaceful, but Vincenz's, a small restaurant popular for lunch, is comparatively pleasant to the rest of the city. Always full, always busy and the brashness of the clientèle could be considered proper decorum by the city's standards. Crime had been getting worse all around and the corruption had even permeated every part of the law.

At the moment, the restaurant was right where Inspector Gaffit wanted to be, just not for the reasons anyone else did. He looks around as casually as he can, finding himself looking for any sign of a gun in the handbag a young mother is carrying as she leads her kid out of the restaurant by the hand. He closes eyes briefly with a humorless smile on his face. He opens them again and looks around the restaurant yet still keeps lingering on people; the old bald man drinking coffee by the door who kept scratching his leg, the laid-back guy with coiffed hair, aviators and white jacket, the guy with a dark polo shirt sitting across the table from Aviators, and the woman on her phone who kept glancing around the restaurant. They all looked suspicious, as if any could pull a gun at any moment. He secretly wished they would so that after weeks of dead ends in the Children's hospital case and even more time spent having to put up with people's **** and being nice with them, he could maybe let out some of that frustration.

He suspected that he was picked to be head of the department's newly formed strike team because of his levelheadedness, so he had to peacefully oversee all busts and most activity related to organized crime.

"Hm. Organized..." Gaffit said to himself as one of the buyers did little to hide that he was involved in something illegal.

"You know, I would've had a chance to use one of these if I had waited to kill that punk Ecko..." the buyer says to one of his cronies. He looks up, as if remembering the dealers were still there. "Oh, it was just an old friend who tried to run off with his **** he knocked up, or something, after jacking us. Nothing notable."

Gaffit, sitting in a booth nearby, looks across the table at his partner with an exasperated look and mouths "Told you." His partner doesn't react, which he never seemed to do anymore, after the hospital incident, and instead nods to two other officers at another booth, one a man and the other a woman. They were there despite the guy wanting nothing to do with the force anymore and girl just recently becoming a mother. They were essentially the only ones who had the training for the team, since most of the precinct was called to investigate Kevin's murder.

"All right, gentlemen," the buyer says, grinning. "It's always good doing business. I hate your guts though, and we assume you have all your guns in your cars, so we'll be taking those."

The buyer already has his gun drawn under the table, aimed at the dealer.

"You-!...We've been doing business for years!" the dealer screams. Gaffit looks at his partner who is already drawing his weapon on the dealers and buyers. Gaffit and the two other officers do the same

"Give it up, 'Cads'" Gaffit says. Cads' arm is still outstretched, pointing his weapon at the arms dealer's face.

"I haven't done anything wrong," he says innocently, staring blankly back at them with a slight smile.

"Shut the **** up and drop your weapon. You're wasting everyone's time with your stupid bullshit," Gaffit's partner says with vitriol. The restaurant falls quiet.

Cads grins, pulling the trigger to his Ruger Blackhawk revolver, blowing open the skull of the dealer just before a bullet from somewhere else pass straight through his eye and out the back of his head.

Gaffit instinctively drops to a sitting position on the floor, kicking off of the table, sending it into one of the arms dealers, sending him stumbling back as everyone carrying a gun draws their weapons. Gaffit slides backward along the floor, having pushed off from the table, shooting one of the now armed buyers in his gun arm causing him to lurch in pain and fall, slamming his face into the tiled floor. The remaining criminals scatter like roaches away from their poorly chosen table in the center of the restaurant. Gaffit and his partner vault over the booth's wall another booth as bullet tear through their surroundings. They land roughly yet unscathed, breaking the table on their way down. Gaffit briefly wonders if the other officers were still safe.

As the commotion and panic begins to envelop his very being, Gaffit blinks, trying to get a grasp of the situation as his eyes close. Cads shot the dealer. Someone shot Cads, almost as he pulled his own trigger. It wasn't from a cop, even if he had shot, none of them would be aiming at his head; not in their training. It was planned. A someone who knew what they were doing.

Gaffit's eyes open again. The old man was underneath the table in his booth, shaking. The aviators guy wasn't near his seat, neither was his friend. The woman who was talking on the phone was crying barely, lying on the floor, dialing another number on her phone, possibly 911. He looks up at his partner who stands up and begins firing over their cover at one of the criminals before leaping back over the wall to give chase.

Two customers walk past quickly toward the kitchens. The man in the aviators and the black polo. There's still gunfire coming from seemingly everywhere and they could get hit. Gaffit, briefly wondering why they're risking standing up at all, leaps up after them.

"Hey! Stay low you two; you mig-"

Without looking back, the one in the aviators and white jacket aims a silenced MP-446 "Viking" 9mm pistol directly between Gaffit's now widening eyes. He half-stumbles, half-dodges sideways a split-second before the gun fires. The bullet flies back into the restaurant destroying a neon sign hanging above the counter in a shower of sparks. The two keep walking as Gaffit blinks involuntarily, eyes wide. He snaps back to awareness as a shotgun firing is heard and one of the criminals' body flies into the wall next to Gaffit.

"You OK, Bass?!" a voice says.

"Yeah!..." the female officer yells back. "...Nine!! The entrance!"

Gaffit looks back to see Nine dive behind the counter with his Remington 870, sweeping plates and utensils with him on his way as a criminal who had made it outside steps back in through the front door, carrying an a G36 rifle, already firing indiscriminately into the restaurant, pulverizing the inside of the restaurant. Just before he fires, Gaffit sees Bass lean out from behind her cover, fire and manage to hit the attacker in the throat. Gaffit let out a relieved sigh, gets up and runs into the kitchen.

He hears the silenced gunfire, only slightly quieter than the gunfire out in the restaurant, piercing the pots and pans hanging around the kitchen. Gaffit ducks behind the sinks and hears one set of footsteps run out the back doors. He glances around for something he can use, his eyes darting around before looking at a bag of flour in an open cabinet near the floor. He takes it and hurls it up into the air. Immediately, it gets blasted open by a gunshot, exploding the bag an releasing a cloud of flour everywhere.

The white powder lingers in the air for only a moment. As it settles, Gaffit finds himself looking down the barrel of his Magnum at the man in the aviators, who's leaning up against wall a fair distance away, the slide of his gun locked back from having spent all his ammo.

"...Drop the weapon," Gaffit says.

The man lazily holds out his MP-446, holding it with his pinky extended. He speaks.

"It's a lot more difficult to try to keep from killing someone chasing you than it is to kill them, especially when they're being persiste-"

"Shut up," Gaffit says. "And drop your gun, now."

The white-jacketed man lets go of the pistol. Just before it hits the ground, he kicks it, sending it flying toward Gaffit's face. He lifts his arms up to shield himself from it, and as it hits him, he lowers his arms just in time to see the man pushing his gun hand aside, punching Gaffit in the stomach swiftly. Gaffit's gun goes off, hitting some containers near the exit.

Before he can think about what he'll do, Gaffit feels his feet being swept out from under him, and an elbow hitting his now horizontal frame hard in the solar plexus, sending him  straight into the floor. His Magnum clatters across the kitchen floor, out of reach. The white jacket wearing man already has his pistol out, and aimed at Gaffit. There were no more gunshots coming from outside the kitchen and all he could do was stare right back into those reflective sunglass lenses.

"We need to go."

The other man's voice is heard. He must have come back inside.

"I was trying to leave, but this guy wouldn't let me," Aviators said, referring to Gaffit. "...I need a **** smoke. We should be going."

Gaffit, despite his head being in throbbing pain from having been slammed into the floor, could picture the look of annoyance the other man had on his face.

"OK..." Aviators said. "Bye," he said to Gaffit as he turned and walked toward the exit. he could hear them clearly, despite the high-pitched whining noise he kept hearing, similar to when one hears too loud a sound.

Gaffit, knowing how foolish he must be to try to pursue these men any further, forced himself up holding onto the counter in the middle of the kitchen, just barely enough to get a glimpse of the men. He saw the one man look back; he was black, had glasses and was stout, with no humor on his face. The other guy was the opposite for he was white, kind of lanky and still had a slight grin on his face; he pulled a match from the pocket of his white jacket that had a print of bamboo going up and down it. Just as the guy struck the match, Gaffit happened to look at the shelf where he had shot earlier when he was taken down. The high-pitched noise he was hearing wasn't in his head. one of the propane tanks on the shelf near the exit had a bullet hole and was letting out some of its contents, right into Aviator's now lit match.


The explosion shook the very foundation of the building the restaurant was in. Flames gushed out of the back doors to the kitchen. Gaffit was thrown back out into the restaurant itself and anyone who had garnered the necessary courage to stand back up were pushed right off their feet.

After a few long moments, everyone's world began to fade back in with their hearing. The police and the firetruck sirens whining discordantly in the distance. Water from the now blown apart sinks and the sprinkler system sprays over the ruins of the restaurant.

The man in the black polo lifts his associate up off the alleyway floor up by the arm, supporting him; his white jacket now heavily singed and his sunglasses nowhere to be found.

"What happened?" the man in black said, exasperated yet calm. "You couldn't keep that cop from following you without almost killing yourself?"

"WHAT DID YOU SAY, ING?" the man in the white jacket said, squinting up at the other man.

Ing squints while carrying his partner to their black 1967 Pontiac GTO down the alleyway before propping Bizzle up against it.

"Can you hear me, Bizzle?" Ing says, mouthing the words without speaking them.



The two get in their car and drive off as Gaffit comes to.

He stumbles through the ruined restaurant, helping restaurateurs to their feet. He comes across the body of the old man he saw from earlier now riddled with bullets just as Bass comes up to him.

"Are you all right? What the hell happened?" she asks.

"I'm fine...there was an accident...I'll catch you up later, first..." Gaffit wipes some blood trickling down his forehead. "First, are any of the suspects still alive?"

"Yeah," Bass said. "Jawo' caught one of them after he made a break for it. They had far more weapons in their car then we could have expected. Nine is with him, just a block away..."

Before Gaffit can respond, Bass turns on her radio back on in tire to hear a call already being sent out.

"All units, respond, possible 243 in progress assasult on an officer, Rio Juarez addition...make that possible 10-108, all units..."

"Rio Juarez..." Bass says. "Is that?..."

Gaffit, half-listening to the radio call, looks around outside aimlessly. He turns back to Bass.

"...Yeah...he's the only one of us that live there...C'mon."

The two wait to cross the busy street to get to their cruiser as cars zoom back and forth under the unrelenting sun cutting through the smog above.

In the police station, DB passes empty desk after empty desk on his way to the interrogation room upstairs, wanting to be anywhere in the world other than in that room with the suspect currently in there.

Title: Re: One month after the incident at Saint Manuel-Florentino Children's Hospital
Post by: TBizzle on 29 July, 2010, 06:17:10 am
"What happened?" the man in black said, exasperated yet calm. "You couldn't keep that cop from following you without almost killing yourself?"

"WHAT DID YOU SAY, ING?" Bizzle said, squinting up at the other man.

Ing squints while carrying Bizzle to their black 1967 Pontiac GTO down the alleyway before propping Bizzle up against it.

"Can you hear me, Bizzle?" Ing says, mouthing the words without speaking them.




Title: Re: One month after the incident at Saint Manuel-Florentino Children's Hospital
Post by: Marie Rose on 29 July, 2010, 04:11:30 pm
I'm not sure why I didn't know about this, unless the topic title changed or something...

Title: Re: One month after the incident at Saint Manuel-Florentino Children's Hospital
Post by: Random on 23 August, 2010, 10:51:23 pm
Wait, what happens to Detective Guy? >_>