TRAIL OF FIRE
Hello, this is the first chapter of my FF "Trail of Fire" I know most people haven't seen or read the introduction and synopsis so if you haven't I suggest you read it first before reading this to know what to expect. Click
Now for the Chapter, I hope you enjoy and please give me some feedback on what I should do differently or what you liked about it.
Code of Conduct
Its a wet and rainy night in Brooklyn, New York, the air is cold and chilling and the rain that falls from the dark purple clouded sky above is just as cold. New York City 1929, a giant concrete city where the heart of America's growing yet slowly contracting economy. Though being the heart of the economy, crime and vice rule the streets and its what keeps New York's eternal thirst for illegal alcohol quenched. Its the era of Prohibition and its the roaring 20s a turbulent and uncertain time throughout the country, America and most of the world have the taste of the Great War fresh in their mouths, shocking new ideals and morals are being introduced into society, the economy is booming and new things that have never been seen in countless life times are being discovered, and people are simply excited about the new century.
Despite all the excitement America is a nation ravaged by the curse of a seceding economy and its hunger for crime and vice. The once good intention of proposing a ban on the manufacture and trade of alcohol to end the trend of vagrants and drunkards who spend there days wondering the streets intoxicated and unemployed and a streak of aggravated assaults caused by alcohol, the passage of the 18th amendment and the Volstead Act passed after the Armistice was singed which ordered the destruction of alcohol and prohibited the sail or manufacture of alcohol only barred bad fruit and has been the breeding ground for vice. All across America crime syndicates are rising, bootlegging is becoming a common trade, and racketeering is a thriving business to many. The country is being rocked by gang wars, assassinations, and political corruption. If that wasn't enough the country though supposedly in a thriving economic state its currently heading into a deep economic recession and depression as a result of the common act of "Buying on the Margin" a term referring to the purchasing of goods with credit. The 20s where troubling times regardless of the change and supposed booming economy.
Corporal Bartlett walks over to the police car slowly with a expression of distaste and irritation at the circumstances of the duty he is in charge of. Sergeant Wainwright opens the car doors from the inside to unravel 2 large whiskey barrels. Sergeant Wainwright giving Corporal Bartlett an analytically look tells him, "Now listen Corporal, I know this is not the best duty but you got to do what you gotta do son. And there is no complaining either, I know you don't want to be here but trust me it pays off to stay on the Chiefs good side for a change." Two other officers get out of the cars back compartment and another two come out from the front. "Alright now steady as she goes." says Sergeant Wainwright to Corporal Bartlett as he unloads the barrel of whiskey. The corporal looks to Sgt. Wainwright and says "Sarge don't you ever get tired of being the Chief's dog?" The Sergeant rubs his pointy white mustache for a second and then rubs his prickly white beard under his chin. "Now I'm not the Chief's dog, I signed up for this job. You see I do what I'm told by my superiors even if it is dumping alcohol into the sewer. As a little boy my dream was always to become a police officer, and here I'am. And dammit I'm happy to be one and I will fulfill my duty no matter what it is." The Corporal rolled his eyes, the 5 officers carried the barrels and place them beside a manhole in the street.
One of the other police officers picked up his crowbar and plunged it into the manhole gap and jerked the crowbar upwards to lift the manhole lid to unveil the sewer stream. The other officer hauled the whiskey barrel to the edge of the open manhole, he then plunged his crowbar in the barrels top and popped it open exposing the whiskey. Corporal Bartlett went behind the barrel and titled it so that the top was pointing toward the open hole, about to dump the whiskey down the sewer, Corporal Bartlett paused for a second. He stared at the barrel for a second and said "I sure hate to see all this whiskey go to waste, damn shame ain't it?." Sergeant Wainwright stared at him for a second, gave him another look. "You know let me tell you a story Corporal, as a boy I had the nicest daddy a boy could have. We use to go out a play baseball together, we use to go fishing, he taught me how to shoot a gun. He was my hero, I loved my daddy. But he had a disease, you see my daddy loved Whiskey. He loved it so much he would spend about every night a Saloon drinking it. He would come home and beat my mother because he was so drunk, but one night. He came home extra drunk, my mother was mad as could be for him coming home so late. My daddy insisted he wasn't drunk. My Mama threatened to leave my daddy that night, and he didn't like that one bit. He was so drunk he tried to hold my mama down and he broke her neck unknowingly. My mama died, I was just a boy and I saw it all there. My daddy cried and he looked me in the eyes and told me to do everything in my power to get rid of alcohol. My daddy ran to his room locked himself in there and gave himself and shotgun wound to the face. Ever since that day, I have kept a promise to my mama and daddy to do everything in my power to get rid of this damn alcohol."
The Corporal starred at him for a second, "Damn Sarge, I'm sorry. You know your right, lets get rid of this stuff." The Sergeant looked at the Corporal and patted him on the back and said "Good decision." The Corporal got his grip back on the barrel handle once more and was preparing to dump it in. A loud screeching of tires can be heard from afar, Corporal Bartlett pauses once again and says "Whats that?". Two headlights appear from a short distance and the screeching becomes stronger as the speeding car gets to where they are. The speeding car halts and parks on its side. The officers quickly draw there pistols, suddenly the windows of the mysterious black car unfolds. Behind the windows the officers are greeted with a Thompson sub machine gun. For men pop out from the windows with there Tommy guns and begin to fire. A flurry of bullets goes rushing towards the officers, the men continuously spray the officers with bullets. The officers are struck with multiple bullets, the men continue to fire non stop at the officers until their drum magazines are empty. All 5 officers are down, Corporal Bartlett and the 3 other officers are dead from the brutal spray of bullets. Sergeant Wainwright is also down, but still alive. After receiving multiple bullets wounds to the stomach and in other areas he is barley hanging on by a thread.
The men in the automobile exit their car, all of them pull out a drum magazine from their coats and reload their Thompson sub-machine guns. The stand around the whiskey barrel and the 5 downed officers. Another car silently approaches behind the first one. A man exists the automobile, he is a averagely tall man wearing a grey coat over a red dress shirt and yellow tie as well as wearing a matching grey hat on his head. The man approaches the scene and the 4 assailants make a room as he approaches them. He sees Sergeant Wainwright on the floor, he pulls out a cigar a lights it and begins to walk toward the fallen officer. Sergeant Wainwright barley alive stares at the suited man, Sergeant Wainwright completely covered in bullet holes and with blood coming out of his mouth manages to speak a phrase. In a raspy voice he says "Handsome Joey." The suited man, crouches to the fallen officers level and takes his cigar out of his mouth. He says, "Don't tell me you where about to waste all that whisk. Whiskey is money my friend and money is my game." Sergeant Wainwright says to the man, "What your doing is wrong." Sergeant Wainwright coughs up blood. Handsome Joey gets up on his feet and says in a loud voice "What is it that I'm doing thats wrong, I'm only giving what the people are asking for." Handsome Joey reaches in his coat pocket and pulls out a pistol, points it at Sergeant Wainwright's head and shoots him.
Handsome Joey's goons haul the Whiskey barrels to the trucks. Handsome Joey tells two of his crooks "Clean this mess up before the feds get here." The two men take the 5 bodies and wrap them in a trash bag and throw them in the dumpster. Handsome Joey tells his other goons, go to the speakeasy North of here, I'll meet you guys up soon enough, I have to deal with some business first.
~-To be Continued
Thanks for reading if you want to be notified when chapter 2 will be released just let me know and I'll drop the link in your VM box
Hello, this is the first chapter of my FF "Trail of Fire" I know most people haven't seen or read the introduction and synopsis so if you haven't I suggest you read it first before reading this to know what to expect. Click
You must be registered for see links
for the intro.Now for the Chapter, I hope you enjoy and please give me some feedback on what I should do differently or what you liked about it.
Code of Conduct
Its a wet and rainy night in Brooklyn, New York, the air is cold and chilling and the rain that falls from the dark purple clouded sky above is just as cold. New York City 1929, a giant concrete city where the heart of America's growing yet slowly contracting economy. Though being the heart of the economy, crime and vice rule the streets and its what keeps New York's eternal thirst for illegal alcohol quenched. Its the era of Prohibition and its the roaring 20s a turbulent and uncertain time throughout the country, America and most of the world have the taste of the Great War fresh in their mouths, shocking new ideals and morals are being introduced into society, the economy is booming and new things that have never been seen in countless life times are being discovered, and people are simply excited about the new century.
Despite all the excitement America is a nation ravaged by the curse of a seceding economy and its hunger for crime and vice. The once good intention of proposing a ban on the manufacture and trade of alcohol to end the trend of vagrants and drunkards who spend there days wondering the streets intoxicated and unemployed and a streak of aggravated assaults caused by alcohol, the passage of the 18th amendment and the Volstead Act passed after the Armistice was singed which ordered the destruction of alcohol and prohibited the sail or manufacture of alcohol only barred bad fruit and has been the breeding ground for vice. All across America crime syndicates are rising, bootlegging is becoming a common trade, and racketeering is a thriving business to many. The country is being rocked by gang wars, assassinations, and political corruption. If that wasn't enough the country though supposedly in a thriving economic state its currently heading into a deep economic recession and depression as a result of the common act of "Buying on the Margin" a term referring to the purchasing of goods with credit. The 20s where troubling times regardless of the change and supposed booming economy.
Corporal Bartlett walks over to the police car slowly with a expression of distaste and irritation at the circumstances of the duty he is in charge of. Sergeant Wainwright opens the car doors from the inside to unravel 2 large whiskey barrels. Sergeant Wainwright giving Corporal Bartlett an analytically look tells him, "Now listen Corporal, I know this is not the best duty but you got to do what you gotta do son. And there is no complaining either, I know you don't want to be here but trust me it pays off to stay on the Chiefs good side for a change." Two other officers get out of the cars back compartment and another two come out from the front. "Alright now steady as she goes." says Sergeant Wainwright to Corporal Bartlett as he unloads the barrel of whiskey. The corporal looks to Sgt. Wainwright and says "Sarge don't you ever get tired of being the Chief's dog?" The Sergeant rubs his pointy white mustache for a second and then rubs his prickly white beard under his chin. "Now I'm not the Chief's dog, I signed up for this job. You see I do what I'm told by my superiors even if it is dumping alcohol into the sewer. As a little boy my dream was always to become a police officer, and here I'am. And dammit I'm happy to be one and I will fulfill my duty no matter what it is." The Corporal rolled his eyes, the 5 officers carried the barrels and place them beside a manhole in the street.
One of the other police officers picked up his crowbar and plunged it into the manhole gap and jerked the crowbar upwards to lift the manhole lid to unveil the sewer stream. The other officer hauled the whiskey barrel to the edge of the open manhole, he then plunged his crowbar in the barrels top and popped it open exposing the whiskey. Corporal Bartlett went behind the barrel and titled it so that the top was pointing toward the open hole, about to dump the whiskey down the sewer, Corporal Bartlett paused for a second. He stared at the barrel for a second and said "I sure hate to see all this whiskey go to waste, damn shame ain't it?." Sergeant Wainwright stared at him for a second, gave him another look. "You know let me tell you a story Corporal, as a boy I had the nicest daddy a boy could have. We use to go out a play baseball together, we use to go fishing, he taught me how to shoot a gun. He was my hero, I loved my daddy. But he had a disease, you see my daddy loved Whiskey. He loved it so much he would spend about every night a Saloon drinking it. He would come home and beat my mother because he was so drunk, but one night. He came home extra drunk, my mother was mad as could be for him coming home so late. My daddy insisted he wasn't drunk. My Mama threatened to leave my daddy that night, and he didn't like that one bit. He was so drunk he tried to hold my mama down and he broke her neck unknowingly. My mama died, I was just a boy and I saw it all there. My daddy cried and he looked me in the eyes and told me to do everything in my power to get rid of alcohol. My daddy ran to his room locked himself in there and gave himself and shotgun wound to the face. Ever since that day, I have kept a promise to my mama and daddy to do everything in my power to get rid of this damn alcohol."
The Corporal starred at him for a second, "Damn Sarge, I'm sorry. You know your right, lets get rid of this stuff." The Sergeant looked at the Corporal and patted him on the back and said "Good decision." The Corporal got his grip back on the barrel handle once more and was preparing to dump it in. A loud screeching of tires can be heard from afar, Corporal Bartlett pauses once again and says "Whats that?". Two headlights appear from a short distance and the screeching becomes stronger as the speeding car gets to where they are. The speeding car halts and parks on its side. The officers quickly draw there pistols, suddenly the windows of the mysterious black car unfolds. Behind the windows the officers are greeted with a Thompson sub machine gun. For men pop out from the windows with there Tommy guns and begin to fire. A flurry of bullets goes rushing towards the officers, the men continuously spray the officers with bullets. The officers are struck with multiple bullets, the men continue to fire non stop at the officers until their drum magazines are empty. All 5 officers are down, Corporal Bartlett and the 3 other officers are dead from the brutal spray of bullets. Sergeant Wainwright is also down, but still alive. After receiving multiple bullets wounds to the stomach and in other areas he is barley hanging on by a thread.
The men in the automobile exit their car, all of them pull out a drum magazine from their coats and reload their Thompson sub-machine guns. The stand around the whiskey barrel and the 5 downed officers. Another car silently approaches behind the first one. A man exists the automobile, he is a averagely tall man wearing a grey coat over a red dress shirt and yellow tie as well as wearing a matching grey hat on his head. The man approaches the scene and the 4 assailants make a room as he approaches them. He sees Sergeant Wainwright on the floor, he pulls out a cigar a lights it and begins to walk toward the fallen officer. Sergeant Wainwright barley alive stares at the suited man, Sergeant Wainwright completely covered in bullet holes and with blood coming out of his mouth manages to speak a phrase. In a raspy voice he says "Handsome Joey." The suited man, crouches to the fallen officers level and takes his cigar out of his mouth. He says, "Don't tell me you where about to waste all that whisk. Whiskey is money my friend and money is my game." Sergeant Wainwright says to the man, "What your doing is wrong." Sergeant Wainwright coughs up blood. Handsome Joey gets up on his feet and says in a loud voice "What is it that I'm doing thats wrong, I'm only giving what the people are asking for." Handsome Joey reaches in his coat pocket and pulls out a pistol, points it at Sergeant Wainwright's head and shoots him.
Handsome Joey's goons haul the Whiskey barrels to the trucks. Handsome Joey tells two of his crooks "Clean this mess up before the feds get here." The two men take the 5 bodies and wrap them in a trash bag and throw them in the dumpster. Handsome Joey tells his other goons, go to the speakeasy North of here, I'll meet you guys up soon enough, I have to deal with some business first.
~-To be Continued
Thanks for reading if you want to be notified when chapter 2 will be released just let me know and I'll drop the link in your VM box
Except one thing, try to use this, whenever someone speaks, write in Sergeant Wainwright- <--- that - xd I like everything can u send chapter 2 to private message? not to vm because you can just copy the chapter, open narutobase.net go pm and then write all the names you will need to send, the ones that requested and then just write the chapter or paste it and good to go, no need to visit 1 by 1 
