What Comes Around Goes Around
new life
Ten years and 5 month later
“Alright Hopman, you know the drill.” A gruff voice said, banging on the bars of Dennis’ cell.
It had been like this for over ten years and his body responded out of habit. He rolled off his bunk and stood at the back wall as the cell door was opened. Only today was different. Instead of the normal orange jumpsuit, he received real cloths. He hugged them as he was led out of the small cell and onto a sort of fire escape, down rickety stairs and into the inmates showers where he quickly washed him self and pulled on his new cloths. Today he was going to get out of this hell hole. It had been ten years since he was brought here to be other inmates new toy, and now he could say “See ‘ya later!” to the lot of them.
Now he walked towards the front gate with a box of things his family had sent him these past few years. Inside it held books and letters and a few pictures. Among the pictures was one of him and his best friend Amanda. It was taken the year before she was murdered. They were at the beach and they both had just got back from having a water fight with a bunch of kids from their class, they were in their bathing suites and laughing when the picture was taken. Anger burned inside him, simmering from a pool that rested in his heart. It seemed anger had taken over sorrow years ago, after he was aloud to attend his friend’s funeral, arriving at the state prison where…he forced stray thoughts away as he stepped out into freedom.
~*~
Dennis lived in a rundown part of a city. Trash littered the streets and sidewalks, burned out cars with doors missing were parked and ditched, left behind for what ever wanted to live in it. The walls of the shabby buildings were tagged with gang markings and off somewhere in an apartment building was a boom box blaring some rap music that wasn't suited for the children playing in the empty streets to hear. In almost every doorway a bum slept underneath tattered blankets or news paper, half-dead and creepy looking. The people who dwelled in such a place had little or no money. They dressed in old Salvation Army rejects, clothing that were too old or battered to sell. Dennis planned to escape this place soon.
Getting a job proved harder every day. No one wanted to hire an ex-con, it didn’t matter if he was innocent or not. Obsessing over the Grim Reaper (as the news people called him) seemed to consume him. He knew the man would be back to finish him off. Past deaths even proved the theory. All Dennis had to do was wait, which deemed to be much harder than he would have thought.
A month after he was out the therapist said he was depressed. The reason for such a conclusion was because he tried killing himself. It would have worked if the lady who owned the room he rented hadn’t walked in and called nine-one-one. Frankly, he didn’t see how over dosing on aspirin was caused by depression. The therapist just wanted to take what money he had left to his name, which wasn’t much to begin with. Still, the shrink saw fit to pump him full of anti-depressants and send him on his way with a prescription for more. Now, Dennis sat in his room, a pleasant buzz tingling in his brain, making him smile like a moron.
His inner demons banged against the effects of the pills the shrink had given him. It wasn’t even three months later before Shadow came. By then Dennis had all that he needed. A pocketknife in his pocket and guns hidden everywhere in the apartment. It was a bit extreme but who knew what kind of man shadow really was? All Dennis knew was that he wasn’t going down without a fight.
Standing up he walked to the kitchen and opened the refrigerator door and peered inside. There wasn’t anything good enough to eat. Some spoiled meat and veggies. “Well this stinks” he grumbled, slamming the refrigerator door shut. “No money and no food, this is just not my day.” he said peeking into the cabinets. “I stand corrected.” he said pulling out a ready to make Mac-and-Cheese packet.
Pulling down an old plastic bowl he started making his dinner. At one point he felt the hair on the back of his neck rise as he got the feeling of someone watching him. He glanced over his shoulder and looked around the small room full of mismatched furniture. No one was there, well no one he could see. But he knew it was this Shadow guy. But that didn’t upset him. No, he let out a giggle and stuck the bowl of noodles water and cheese powder in the microwave, slipping a broken fork in as well before closing the door and pushing a few buttons. The microwave was old and he knew it needed time to even heat up before heating the food up. He just hoped everyone in the building got out when the fire started.
Muttering under his breath, and keeping an eye on the shadows, Dennis walked towards his room, stuffing his hands into his pockets. The pills were wearing off finally and now he felt the anger bubble up under the forced happy feeling, which was slowly disintegrating.
Shadow watched the boy make his supper. It was too bad the boy wouldn’t be able to eat it. He watched and listened as Dennis shuffled towards his room, saying something about flushing his happy pills. He wouldn’t get time to do it anyway.
He silently followed Dennis into his room, slowly walking up behind him. He drew his dagger out of his belt and leaned over the boy, who was bent over a chest of drawers digging through it.
He didn’t know what happened after that, why it went so wrong. No one had ever lashed back at him. But one moment Dennis had his back to him the next he had a gun trained on him and was pulling the trigger, shooting bullets into his stomach. Shadow stumbled back and thumped against the wall.
“Remember me you S.O.B? Huh? Do you? You killed my best friend and ruined my life!” Dennis said; pure rage filling his eyes as his whole body hummed with it. His hand was steady though and he shot shadow again when he tried getting up.
“I don’t think so.” He growled, striding over and yanking the hood off. He met shadows own enraged eyes and they seemed to stair each other down.
Desperate and stupidly shadow lunged at Dennis’s legs, tackling him to the ground. The gun skittered across the room and under the bed. Cussing Dennis and Shadow rolled around the room, hitting one another and scrambling away, trying to get to the gun. Shadow managed to pin him down, his knees on Dennis’s hands as he sat on his stomach. He pulled out an extra dagger and scowled at him. “You try my patents boy!” he had to end it before the kid got anymore ideas. Already he was trying to buck shadow off, who refused to budge. He smiled, shook his head and plunged the knife into the boy’s chest. He screamed and fought more. Well this kid had spirit! He continued stabbing him until Dennis slowly stopped moving, a demented smile spreading across his bloody teeth,
“Got ya bastard!” he said, laughing and coughing up blood.
It was then that shadow smelled the acrid smell of burning metal. He flew up and raced to the door but it was too late. Dennis’s laughter followed after a boom was all that he heard last…
“Alright Hopman, you know the drill.” A gruff voice said, banging on the bars of Dennis’ cell.
It had been like this for over ten years and his body responded out of habit. He rolled off his bunk and stood at the back wall as the cell door was opened. Only today was different. Instead of the normal orange jumpsuit, he received real cloths. He hugged them as he was led out of the small cell and onto a sort of fire escape, down rickety stairs and into the inmates showers where he quickly washed him self and pulled on his new cloths. Today he was going to get out of this hell hole. It had been ten years since he was brought here to be other inmates new toy, and now he could say “See ‘ya later!” to the lot of them.
Now he walked towards the front gate with a box of things his family had sent him these past few years. Inside it held books and letters and a few pictures. Among the pictures was one of him and his best friend Amanda. It was taken the year before she was murdered. They were at the beach and they both had just got back from having a water fight with a bunch of kids from their class, they were in their bathing suites and laughing when the picture was taken. Anger burned inside him, simmering from a pool that rested in his heart. It seemed anger had taken over sorrow years ago, after he was aloud to attend his friend’s funeral, arriving at the state prison where…he forced stray thoughts away as he stepped out into freedom.
~*~
Dennis lived in a rundown part of a city. Trash littered the streets and sidewalks, burned out cars with doors missing were parked and ditched, left behind for what ever wanted to live in it. The walls of the shabby buildings were tagged with gang markings and off somewhere in an apartment building was a boom box blaring some rap music that wasn't suited for the children playing in the empty streets to hear. In almost every doorway a bum slept underneath tattered blankets or news paper, half-dead and creepy looking. The people who dwelled in such a place had little or no money. They dressed in old Salvation Army rejects, clothing that were too old or battered to sell. Dennis planned to escape this place soon.
Getting a job proved harder every day. No one wanted to hire an ex-con, it didn’t matter if he was innocent or not. Obsessing over the Grim Reaper (as the news people called him) seemed to consume him. He knew the man would be back to finish him off. Past deaths even proved the theory. All Dennis had to do was wait, which deemed to be much harder than he would have thought.
A month after he was out the therapist said he was depressed. The reason for such a conclusion was because he tried killing himself. It would have worked if the lady who owned the room he rented hadn’t walked in and called nine-one-one. Frankly, he didn’t see how over dosing on aspirin was caused by depression. The therapist just wanted to take what money he had left to his name, which wasn’t much to begin with. Still, the shrink saw fit to pump him full of anti-depressants and send him on his way with a prescription for more. Now, Dennis sat in his room, a pleasant buzz tingling in his brain, making him smile like a moron.
His inner demons banged against the effects of the pills the shrink had given him. It wasn’t even three months later before Shadow came. By then Dennis had all that he needed. A pocketknife in his pocket and guns hidden everywhere in the apartment. It was a bit extreme but who knew what kind of man shadow really was? All Dennis knew was that he wasn’t going down without a fight.
Standing up he walked to the kitchen and opened the refrigerator door and peered inside. There wasn’t anything good enough to eat. Some spoiled meat and veggies. “Well this stinks” he grumbled, slamming the refrigerator door shut. “No money and no food, this is just not my day.” he said peeking into the cabinets. “I stand corrected.” he said pulling out a ready to make Mac-and-Cheese packet.
Pulling down an old plastic bowl he started making his dinner. At one point he felt the hair on the back of his neck rise as he got the feeling of someone watching him. He glanced over his shoulder and looked around the small room full of mismatched furniture. No one was there, well no one he could see. But he knew it was this Shadow guy. But that didn’t upset him. No, he let out a giggle and stuck the bowl of noodles water and cheese powder in the microwave, slipping a broken fork in as well before closing the door and pushing a few buttons. The microwave was old and he knew it needed time to even heat up before heating the food up. He just hoped everyone in the building got out when the fire started.
Muttering under his breath, and keeping an eye on the shadows, Dennis walked towards his room, stuffing his hands into his pockets. The pills were wearing off finally and now he felt the anger bubble up under the forced happy feeling, which was slowly disintegrating.
Shadow watched the boy make his supper. It was too bad the boy wouldn’t be able to eat it. He watched and listened as Dennis shuffled towards his room, saying something about flushing his happy pills. He wouldn’t get time to do it anyway.
He silently followed Dennis into his room, slowly walking up behind him. He drew his dagger out of his belt and leaned over the boy, who was bent over a chest of drawers digging through it.
He didn’t know what happened after that, why it went so wrong. No one had ever lashed back at him. But one moment Dennis had his back to him the next he had a gun trained on him and was pulling the trigger, shooting bullets into his stomach. Shadow stumbled back and thumped against the wall.
“Remember me you S.O.B? Huh? Do you? You killed my best friend and ruined my life!” Dennis said; pure rage filling his eyes as his whole body hummed with it. His hand was steady though and he shot shadow again when he tried getting up.
“I don’t think so.” He growled, striding over and yanking the hood off. He met shadows own enraged eyes and they seemed to stair each other down.
Desperate and stupidly shadow lunged at Dennis’s legs, tackling him to the ground. The gun skittered across the room and under the bed. Cussing Dennis and Shadow rolled around the room, hitting one another and scrambling away, trying to get to the gun. Shadow managed to pin him down, his knees on Dennis’s hands as he sat on his stomach. He pulled out an extra dagger and scowled at him. “You try my patents boy!” he had to end it before the kid got anymore ideas. Already he was trying to buck shadow off, who refused to budge. He smiled, shook his head and plunged the knife into the boy’s chest. He screamed and fought more. Well this kid had spirit! He continued stabbing him until Dennis slowly stopped moving, a demented smile spreading across his bloody teeth,
“Got ya bastard!” he said, laughing and coughing up blood.
It was then that shadow smelled the acrid smell of burning metal. He flew up and raced to the door but it was too late. Dennis’s laughter followed after a boom was all that he heard last…