REPOST OF First Chapter.
I Apologize for my formatting. Enjoy the story.
Chapter 1: Rude Awakenings.
A Dark figure standing in the dim light of a incandescent bulb, thick billows of smoke streamed out from the shadowed figures' nostrils. He staggered out a few chaste coughs, standing over a shrouded object, in actuality.. it was a person. A female figure sprawled out on the cold, dirty black-and-white checkered linoleum floor, the lower half of her body under the dim lighting whilst her upper body was covered in the remaining darkness of the room.
She lied there clutching her bruised face, a fresh cut on her lip stung as she quietly, almost silently breathed.. not daring to let a whimper escape from her throat. She wanted her aggressor to know she was done, she wanted no more of his punishment, she had more than enough. With her face hidden by the darkness of the rest of the room, the man didn't catch the daggers she was shooting him with her enraged pupils.
the dark, sinister character took another long drag of his Black & Mild cigar, raising his black sport style Polo boot, he pushed her over on her side. She winced in pain, sliding onto her back slowly. "Did I fracture a rib?.." she wondered. The pain immediately surging through her body once she felt his boot give her a gentle yet firm tap against her rib cage. "Oh yeah, he broke something.." she was 100% sure of it. It took every piece of will, determination, strength, and utter fear she had not to scream when he dragged her body more into the light.
Revealing her half-bruised face mascara and matted eyelashes caused by her ever-flowing tears. He stood over her, his feet planted in between her spread, limp legs.. he squatted down to take a good look at the face of his captive. His cold, hand covered in black finger less gloves, caressed the side of her blue and purple cheek. He sucked his teeth, "Such a strange beautiful flower, even at death's door you're still raidiant.." He sounded almost remorseful, as he stroked the young woman's battered face tenderly. She on the other hand, wanted to vomit.. nothing left for her but to lie there and endure the what would hopefully be the last of this cruel and unusual torture he was putting her through.
She hoped to God, or whatever holy figure, that he would leave her lying there. "no such luck.." his eyes seem to tell her, as if he was reading her thoughts. He finished the last drag of his cigar and chucked the butt to the dark side of the room with his index finger and thumb. Standing and brushing his black jeans off, he took hold of the woman's legs, dragging her across the linoleum floor out into the hallway. "so this is it.. this is how my story ends. He's gonna take me somewhere, put two bullets in the back of my head and dump me in a river." she thought bitterly, a fresh set of tears burning her eyes and spilling over onto her bruised cheek. The pain she no longer felt, her entire body was numb.. she only felt the soft fibers of the dirty yellow carpet against the back of her scalp.
Finally they reached the door, he dropped both her legs, glancing at her from head to toe, he ran a hand across his well-groomed head and rested it on the back of his neck, gazing in contemplation at the beaten and bruised young woman lying before him. "soo he's gonna do it here in the hallway instead? well.. its been a long, strange ride, time to meet the angel of death.." In a surprising turn, the man reached forward, pulling the female off the carpeted floor. Confused but thankful, she painfully hobbled over to help steady herself. He carefully placed her back against the ugly stained, pea-green painted floral wallpaper. Her legs started to buckle, God.. how was she gonna even make it towards the door, she could barely stand.
The male crouched down to bring the disoriented girl back up from sliding towards the floor. As he grabbed her face with his strong gripping hand, he studied her carefully, she involuntarily felt herself shudder under his touch. He only blinked, his gaze fell as he rose up with her still in his grasp. He then balled up his fist and delivered a final, and punishing blow to her stomach. The young woman crouched over, all the numbness had left her body and pain was quickly setting in, it was so intense, she was literally seeing stars.
She slowly fell, hunched over and clutching her stomach tightly in agony. The figure took one last hard glance at her limp frame and snorted in disgust. He opened the door to the bright hallway, leaving the door partially opened and her unconcious body laid in the gleam of the light. The female, who very much alive and her senses still alert, listened carefully as the retreating footsteps grew fainter and fainter. Her whole body relaxed as she closed her swollen eyes. "Finally.." she thought, "Peace."
3 weeks later, somewhere in the heart of the city..
A young man sat at his desk , the light of his Macbook Pro illuminating his face. He tapped his uncapped pen against his tightly pursed lips. A deep scowl covered his handsome features. He sighed thoughtfully, dropped his pen onto the desk and leaned back into his reclining office chair. He raked one hand through his large brown afro, "Looks like my debut article won't be getting finished tonight.." he breathed exasperatedly. Huey had been trying to finis up his first article for "According To H.P Freeman", his infamous newsletter that was distributed widely across the suburbs of Woodcrest. After leaving for college, Huey decided to post-pone the publication until he could fully devote himself to it again, without it interfering with his studies. After grad year, he considered starting the publication again.. this time going towards the more legitimate business route, only problem was.. he needed money.
Bogged down with student loans, a car note, and rent to pay, Huey was a struggling college graduate. "Oh the irony.." Taking up the first job offer that came his way (not being below his working standards of course) Huey began a lucrative, moderate-paced job as a lead trainer & fitness coordinator at Tudo's Fitness. His customers came from all walks of life, from the stupidly rich and famous, the mid-upper class yuppies, & barely making it college students. He was known as one of THE go-to trainers in town, if you wanted results.. hit up Huey Freeman. After being there two years, he soon lost track of time.. and his long-term goals. His newsletter. His purpose. The young man had did quite alright for himself.. debts paid, living comfortably, with a comfy job. No complaints there right?
Huey knew his life had hit a dead spot. He knew for quite some time. He hadn't been devoting himself to much of anything, except getting that paper. His relationships suffered, his social life was dormant (.. not surprisingly). He just felt a great, big VOID in the middle of his life. Was this it? Was this how his story would go & ultimately end? A average joe with a 9-to-5 working day to the next.. and then? Another heavy sigh emitted from the young revolutionary before he shut down his expensive personal computer, and headed down the hall, up the stairs of his cozy modern-styled loft, to the master bedroom. Sleep was needed. Then maybe those deceptive thoughts of his would be gone, at least til' the void would creep upon him again..