Aardvark Posted February 10, 2003 Report Share Posted February 10, 2003 (edited) Life in the urban jungle. A harsh one, but one everyone lived. You either lived or you died, in the urban jungle. There were dangers aplenty, as everywhere, but none so dangerous as in the urban jungle. Elsewhere on earth, other jungles, the predators would only hunt you for food and only if nothing else was available. Here, the predators hunt for pitiful reasons, survival being nowhere to be seen. Sport, you could call it, but sport is more of a want than a need. To fulfill a need. That's why they hunt. They need to feel adequate. They can't do that unless they can prove they're better than everyone else. So they set about it the only way they know how On this dark night, an hour past midnight, such predators are out. Roaming the cityscape in packs, sniffing out loners and other predator packs. They don't stray too far on foot, but will roam for miles on wheels. Loners... or anyone who counts. This young couple counted. These predators never heard of women's lib. Even if they did, they'd just laugh. Right now, they smell their prey. And the prey knows it. The man held his girl close as they navigated the few short streets between their houses. Short... but never short enough. If his car hadn't been in the shop, they would've driven. He'd offered her his place, but she'd declined. A bruise to his ego, but one he could live with. He knew her too well. She'd tried to dissuade him from coming with her, but he was too protective. He knew the streets at night too well. The leader's nostrils flared. He could smell his prey approaching. He nodded to his two accomplices and the pack closed in. A pretty young thing, he thought to himself. And a pathetic specimen of manhood with her. This would be fun. "Hey baby, come over here and I'll treat you like a real man." His standard call across the dark street. The couple ignored him. Couples seldom didn't. The couple also sped up. Seldom did couples fail to do this, too.. "Awww, c'mon baby, you're breakin' my heart here." The pack closed in, one of the three stopping in the path ahead of the couple, the second circling around to the side, the leader brazenly striding straight up to the man. "I'm talking to you, baby. Speak when you're spoken to." The couple kept walking, trying to weave between the leader and the thug ahead of them. "What is this? Are you disrespecting me, bitch?" With these words, the animal stepped forward and beat his fist into his palm. His two betas also closed in, standing off to the side. The man pushed his girl behind him, angling himself so as to not have any of the three out of his field of vision. He took a deep breath, then spoke. "The first one of you to touch me will die." The leader sneered and swung his fist. -- Constable Brown had the honour of writing up a report in triplicate over this. He wasn't too concerned, though. He knew the corpse a little too personally. He'd been close to ending the punk's existence himself on several occasions, so he was almost glad to have this paperwork. Almost. He wasn't going to put much effort into this one. Gang warfare leaves one dead, no witnesses. All he'd have to hope is the no witnesses part held true. Walking around the scene as the paramedics zipped up the corpse, he spied something in the gutter. A wallet. He donned a latex glove, retrieved the wallet and opened it. The first thing he saw was a passport photo of a rather plain looking girl being held by.... he couldn't tell who. The face had been smudged by something. He flipped through the cards 'til he found a license, then shook his head. Tears slid down his face as he read the letter. He couldn't believe it. 3 days had passed, not a word, now this. God, he'd been so stupid. He should've insisted they stay at his place or taken a different route or something. Now... this... letter. He sniffed, catching another whiff of her scent from the paper. He'd risked his life for her. He'd been prepared to die for her. He'd taken a life for her. Now she never wanted to see him again. He could understand why, but.... His thoughts were interrupted by a knock at the door. "Excuse me, Mr Johnson, you appear to have lost your wallet" Edited February 10, 2003 by Aardvark Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
The Portrait of Zool Posted February 10, 2003 Report Share Posted February 10, 2003 Great story! Got real punch! You are good Aardvark. Here's a suggestion; http://hge.members.atlantic.net/New_Format..._Snail_Mail.htm Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
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