8-BALL:
The Lucky 8-ball:
8-ball wakes up, luckily he's not dead. It should surprise him but he can't think straight, he drifts periodically in and out of cosciousness. First he wakes up and doesn't know where he is. There is only darkness, and the sound like rolling tires. The second time he comes to consciousness, he sees the darkness lift away, and the bright daylight hurts his eyes.
He doesn't realize it but two men look down on him. Diablos, and they pull him from the trunk.
"We gonna' have fun with you homes." the words echo in his head as he finally comes to full consciousness, and the world is finally real.
He wakes up in a dark room, with only a dim light illuminating overhead. Both of the Diablos are somewhere in the darkness. He can't see them, and he's not even sure they're there.
"Hello... HEY! Where the FUCK am I!! Hey ASSHOLES!" he shifts around in his chair. His hands are cuffed and pulled behind the chairs backrest. His right leg is cuffed, the chain is wraped around the front-right chair leg, and then cuffed to his left leg. This makes it so that if he tries to kick at them, one of two things will happen, one; the chair leg will block him from doing it, and two; the chair will break causing him to fall over.
"Hey anybody there?" he feels the hot blood on his lip. They beat him while he was unconscious, 'What a bunch of pussies.' he spits the blood out of his mouth. His head pulses like a beating heart.
"What the fuck am I doing HERE!"
Finally a Diablo steps forward into view. He's tall well built, and muscular. He has a stare that would kill.
"Yo, you're awake? Hey Pedro 8-ball's awake!"
"Good, you deal with him." Pedro's voice comes from somwhere else that 8-ball can't see.
"Do I know you mothafuckas? 'Cause to tell you the truth I thought I'd remember your ugly ass!"
"My name is Fausto, and this is my brother Pedro. A few years ago I used to get bombs from your shop. That jacket is a dead givaway man, your shops are everywhere, and if one of your bombs killed somebody, their family would know just how to find you to get revenge."
"Is that why I'm here?"
"No. Except for the part about revenge. You see, you stole from our business, I'm going kill you. For two reasons, the first is because my employer told me to -"
"El Burro?"
"Not that it matters but no. The second reason, is because I want to. And I'm going to use this..." Fausto steps out of the darkness and emerges with a huge yellow black and gray metallic mass, a very disturbing feeling washes over 8-ball as he looks at the chainsaw.
He again begins to shift around in panic in his chair. He looks around him, plastic is layed beneath his feet covered in dry sticky blood. The chair he sits in is covered in blood, dry, the wood is literally painted with it.
"Hey Pedro? You want to watch?"
"Fuck no dog, your fuckin' crazy. I'll be standin' out here, gaurd duty you know."
"You fuckin' pussy."
8-ball hears the door shut behind Pedro. Fausto takes a chair and moves in towards 8-ball. Setting the chainsaw on the plastic.
"You know what I'm going to do now 8-ball? I'm going to take this chainsaw, and I'm going to cut you into as many pieces as I can before you die. No matter what, I will kill you. You can make it faster, IF you tell me where I can get my employers money. If you DON'T, then it will be a slower more painful death. After I'm done killing you, my boys are going to take down each and every one of your bombshops. Fausto stands up and kicks his chair out of the way, then lifts the chainsaw up off the ground and revs it up. "What do you think, pretty cool huh? Just like that movie Scarface --"
click
"-- what the fuck?"
8-ball stands up and the chain on his feet springs up and knocks the chair onto the ground. 8-ball now has both hands at his sides, his right hand is holding his 'lucky needle' as his left wrist dangles the unlocked cuff.
The man swings the chainsaw at 8-ball's left side, before he makes contact he's stabbed in the neck by 8-balls syringe and the force of 8- ball's blow knocks him off his feet. Fausto reaches for the chainsaw but 8- ball's foot smashes him in the stomach, then 8-ball's hand reaches down and lifts up the chainsaw. Fausto panics and jumps at 8-ball who shoves the saw into Fausto's gut. Blood sprays everywhere and 8-ball freaks as it sprinkles his face. He turns the chainsaw off.
Fausto's body drops to the plastic below and 8-ball stands, staring, stunned. He wipes the blood off his face and walks towards the door. Reluctantly, he knocks.
"Fausto...Fausto, is that you?
8-ball revs up the chainsaw and shoves it through the door as fast as he can. The metal tears through wood like butter and blood covered splinters shoot through 8-ball's skin. He screams in pain and drops the chainsaw to the floor, dropping to his knees.
He looks at his hands and begins to pull splinters out one by one, it was like peices of grass covered his hands, pulling them out so slowly was useless. He gets to his feet, for a moment he watches the blood drip from his hands.
He drops the chainsaw on the ground and opens up the door, pushing Pedro's dead body out of the way. He's in a dimly lit hallway, that just looks like an extension of the torture room. The walls and floors are damp concrete. He looks at Pedro's dead body, a baseball bat is gripped firmly in his left hand. 8-ball picks it up and moves down the hallway.
He walks up to the door a foot away from the one he was in, the next door, and put his hand on the knob. He slowly turns the doorknob and peeks inside. This room looks like a regular apartment, three men sit on one couch watching a football game on T.V. on the coffee table in front of them is a Playboy Magazine, Sports Illustrated, TIME, and a fully loaded Colt Python.
The three men stop cheering and turn their attention towards the door, towards 8-ball. The man in the middle quickly reaches for the gun, 8- ball swings the bat 'CLNK' it makes contact with his nose. 8-ball drops the bat on the ground and snatches up the Python sending a bullet flying through the right eyeball of the man on the left. The man on the right jolts to his left reaching around the armrest for his gun, which sits on the floor below. He's gunned down before he makes it, three shots are delivered to his chest.
8-ball picks up the gun the man was going for, empty. He tosses it on the floor and looks at the man in the middle. He has his head leaned back on the backrest of the couch, holding his bloody nose.
8-ball raises his gun and squeezes the trigger, the bullet shoots through the man's chin and rips through the back of his skull leaving the wall behind him scarred with blood.
The man on the right is still alive, wheezing, conscious, 8-ball raises the gun to put the man out of his misery, he pulls the trigger, and misses, a hole less than an inch above the mans head. He has no choice he walks away.
He comes to the end of the hallway and finds a room marked GUNS. He pushes the revolving door open and finds a room rich with light, crates, and guns. He grabs an M9, bullets for his Colt Python, and two Uzi's, he hides them all in various places. He takes a combat knife off of a shelf and tears open a bag of gunpowder. He reaches inside his pocket and pulls it inside out then rips it from it's stitching. The pain is nearly unbearable because of the splinters. He fills the pocket with gunpowder, grabs a shotgun, and walks out into the halway.
He methodically pulls the lacing from Pedro's shoe then ties the pocket with it, and goes through one of the doors on his right. This leads him into another hallway, a familiar hallway. He was in the Diablo owned apartment, the apartment where Trent had killed Lobo.
He heads straight for the stairs. He walks down the first flight with no problems. He decides it's better to be careful, he pumps a shell into the chamber of his shotgun. The second flight he comes to a man comes by with a little girl. 8-ball puts his finger to his lips, and signals to them to go up the stairs.
The third flight, a very young teenage looking Diablo approaches, unaware of 8-ball's presence. He pops his bubblegum and looks up the stairs. 8-ball is at the top pointing a shotgun at him.
"Don't move!"
"What the fuck..."
"I'm just trying to get the fuck out of here man." 8-ball doesn't even realize how bad he looks, covered in blood, it stains his clothes and drips from his hands. "You can understand that right? You try anything fuckin' stupid I will blast you to hell! Do you understand me?"
The kid blindly reaches for a gun and is instantly shot into the wall behind him. Blood streaks across the wall as he falls, taking his last breathe. 8-ball lifts his shirt, and finds a Desert Eagle. He tucks it in his belt and looks to his right. On the stairs is another Diablo.
"Hey boss there's this fuckin' ess--"
8-ball snatches up the Eagle again and strikes him down, he jolts slamming into the wall on his right struggling to keep the blood from flowing through his neck he falls down the stairs. 8-ball runs down into the lobby. Two men gaurd the front door. He bolts for a room, inside are two men holding shotguns 8-ball doesn't hesitate, he pumps them full of lead, using his Colt Python and M9. Then he picks up the shotguns and aims them both at the door.
The two men who were guarding the door bust in and they both get simultaneous blasts right in the stomach. He throws the shotguns on the ground and decides to toss the Python.
He looks towards a window and decides to climb through it, he slips and sprains his ankle landing next to a dumpster. A Diablo stallion pull up and eight Diablo's approach him, not including the two in the car.
'I'm in hell!' he thinks to himself.
"Yo, dog, I heard shooting in there, what's goin' on man."
"Those guys in there, they all fuckin' killed each other."
"Really, now why don't I believe you."
8-ball looks down at himself examining the bloody mess. He looks like a psychopath. "Shit!"
The men go for their guns and 8-ball has no choice, he reaches in his coat pocket and pulls out the dual Uzis he aims high shooting rounds of bullet into the Diablo's heads. He jumps up on the hood of the Diablo Stallion and drops the empty Uzis on the ground. He grabs his M9 and Desert Eagle. The two men in the car are unnarmed and he punches holes through the window blasting glass and blood into thin air. He manages to kick through the front windshield despite his sprained ankle, and he removes it like paper.
He pulls the two dead men from the car and gets inside. He drives away from the building with blood-soaked front seats, and no windshield.
The rain pound his face as he drives and he thinks to himself, 'This is my fuckin' lucky day!"
The Lucky 8-ball:
8-ball wakes up, luckily he's not dead. It should surprise him but he can't think straight, he drifts periodically in and out of cosciousness. First he wakes up and doesn't know where he is. There is only darkness, and the sound like rolling tires. The second time he comes to consciousness, he sees the darkness lift away, and the bright daylight hurts his eyes.
He doesn't realize it but two men look down on him. Diablos, and they pull him from the trunk.
"We gonna' have fun with you homes." the words echo in his head as he finally comes to full consciousness, and the world is finally real.
He wakes up in a dark room, with only a dim light illuminating overhead. Both of the Diablos are somewhere in the darkness. He can't see them, and he's not even sure they're there.
"Hello... HEY! Where the FUCK am I!! Hey ASSHOLES!" he shifts around in his chair. His hands are cuffed and pulled behind the chairs backrest. His right leg is cuffed, the chain is wraped around the front-right chair leg, and then cuffed to his left leg. This makes it so that if he tries to kick at them, one of two things will happen, one; the chair leg will block him from doing it, and two; the chair will break causing him to fall over.
"Hey anybody there?" he feels the hot blood on his lip. They beat him while he was unconscious, 'What a bunch of pussies.' he spits the blood out of his mouth. His head pulses like a beating heart.
"What the fuck am I doing HERE!"
Finally a Diablo steps forward into view. He's tall well built, and muscular. He has a stare that would kill.
"Yo, you're awake? Hey Pedro 8-ball's awake!"
"Good, you deal with him." Pedro's voice comes from somwhere else that 8-ball can't see.
"Do I know you mothafuckas? 'Cause to tell you the truth I thought I'd remember your ugly ass!"
"My name is Fausto, and this is my brother Pedro. A few years ago I used to get bombs from your shop. That jacket is a dead givaway man, your shops are everywhere, and if one of your bombs killed somebody, their family would know just how to find you to get revenge."
"Is that why I'm here?"
"No. Except for the part about revenge. You see, you stole from our business, I'm going kill you. For two reasons, the first is because my employer told me to -"
"El Burro?"
"Not that it matters but no. The second reason, is because I want to. And I'm going to use this..." Fausto steps out of the darkness and emerges with a huge yellow black and gray metallic mass, a very disturbing feeling washes over 8-ball as he looks at the chainsaw.
He again begins to shift around in panic in his chair. He looks around him, plastic is layed beneath his feet covered in dry sticky blood. The chair he sits in is covered in blood, dry, the wood is literally painted with it.
"Hey Pedro? You want to watch?"
"Fuck no dog, your fuckin' crazy. I'll be standin' out here, gaurd duty you know."
"You fuckin' pussy."
8-ball hears the door shut behind Pedro. Fausto takes a chair and moves in towards 8-ball. Setting the chainsaw on the plastic.
"You know what I'm going to do now 8-ball? I'm going to take this chainsaw, and I'm going to cut you into as many pieces as I can before you die. No matter what, I will kill you. You can make it faster, IF you tell me where I can get my employers money. If you DON'T, then it will be a slower more painful death. After I'm done killing you, my boys are going to take down each and every one of your bombshops. Fausto stands up and kicks his chair out of the way, then lifts the chainsaw up off the ground and revs it up. "What do you think, pretty cool huh? Just like that movie Scarface --"
click
"-- what the fuck?"
8-ball stands up and the chain on his feet springs up and knocks the chair onto the ground. 8-ball now has both hands at his sides, his right hand is holding his 'lucky needle' as his left wrist dangles the unlocked cuff.
The man swings the chainsaw at 8-ball's left side, before he makes contact he's stabbed in the neck by 8-balls syringe and the force of 8- ball's blow knocks him off his feet. Fausto reaches for the chainsaw but 8- ball's foot smashes him in the stomach, then 8-ball's hand reaches down and lifts up the chainsaw. Fausto panics and jumps at 8-ball who shoves the saw into Fausto's gut. Blood sprays everywhere and 8-ball freaks as it sprinkles his face. He turns the chainsaw off.
Fausto's body drops to the plastic below and 8-ball stands, staring, stunned. He wipes the blood off his face and walks towards the door. Reluctantly, he knocks.
"Fausto...Fausto, is that you?
8-ball revs up the chainsaw and shoves it through the door as fast as he can. The metal tears through wood like butter and blood covered splinters shoot through 8-ball's skin. He screams in pain and drops the chainsaw to the floor, dropping to his knees.
He looks at his hands and begins to pull splinters out one by one, it was like peices of grass covered his hands, pulling them out so slowly was useless. He gets to his feet, for a moment he watches the blood drip from his hands.
He drops the chainsaw on the ground and opens up the door, pushing Pedro's dead body out of the way. He's in a dimly lit hallway, that just looks like an extension of the torture room. The walls and floors are damp concrete. He looks at Pedro's dead body, a baseball bat is gripped firmly in his left hand. 8-ball picks it up and moves down the hallway.
He walks up to the door a foot away from the one he was in, the next door, and put his hand on the knob. He slowly turns the doorknob and peeks inside. This room looks like a regular apartment, three men sit on one couch watching a football game on T.V. on the coffee table in front of them is a Playboy Magazine, Sports Illustrated, TIME, and a fully loaded Colt Python.
The three men stop cheering and turn their attention towards the door, towards 8-ball. The man in the middle quickly reaches for the gun, 8- ball swings the bat 'CLNK' it makes contact with his nose. 8-ball drops the bat on the ground and snatches up the Python sending a bullet flying through the right eyeball of the man on the left. The man on the right jolts to his left reaching around the armrest for his gun, which sits on the floor below. He's gunned down before he makes it, three shots are delivered to his chest.
8-ball picks up the gun the man was going for, empty. He tosses it on the floor and looks at the man in the middle. He has his head leaned back on the backrest of the couch, holding his bloody nose.
8-ball raises his gun and squeezes the trigger, the bullet shoots through the man's chin and rips through the back of his skull leaving the wall behind him scarred with blood.
The man on the right is still alive, wheezing, conscious, 8-ball raises the gun to put the man out of his misery, he pulls the trigger, and misses, a hole less than an inch above the mans head. He has no choice he walks away.
He comes to the end of the hallway and finds a room marked GUNS. He pushes the revolving door open and finds a room rich with light, crates, and guns. He grabs an M9, bullets for his Colt Python, and two Uzi's, he hides them all in various places. He takes a combat knife off of a shelf and tears open a bag of gunpowder. He reaches inside his pocket and pulls it inside out then rips it from it's stitching. The pain is nearly unbearable because of the splinters. He fills the pocket with gunpowder, grabs a shotgun, and walks out into the halway.
He methodically pulls the lacing from Pedro's shoe then ties the pocket with it, and goes through one of the doors on his right. This leads him into another hallway, a familiar hallway. He was in the Diablo owned apartment, the apartment where Trent had killed Lobo.
He heads straight for the stairs. He walks down the first flight with no problems. He decides it's better to be careful, he pumps a shell into the chamber of his shotgun. The second flight he comes to a man comes by with a little girl. 8-ball puts his finger to his lips, and signals to them to go up the stairs.
The third flight, a very young teenage looking Diablo approaches, unaware of 8-ball's presence. He pops his bubblegum and looks up the stairs. 8-ball is at the top pointing a shotgun at him.
"Don't move!"
"What the fuck..."
"I'm just trying to get the fuck out of here man." 8-ball doesn't even realize how bad he looks, covered in blood, it stains his clothes and drips from his hands. "You can understand that right? You try anything fuckin' stupid I will blast you to hell! Do you understand me?"
The kid blindly reaches for a gun and is instantly shot into the wall behind him. Blood streaks across the wall as he falls, taking his last breathe. 8-ball lifts his shirt, and finds a Desert Eagle. He tucks it in his belt and looks to his right. On the stairs is another Diablo.
"Hey boss there's this fuckin' ess--"
8-ball snatches up the Eagle again and strikes him down, he jolts slamming into the wall on his right struggling to keep the blood from flowing through his neck he falls down the stairs. 8-ball runs down into the lobby. Two men gaurd the front door. He bolts for a room, inside are two men holding shotguns 8-ball doesn't hesitate, he pumps them full of lead, using his Colt Python and M9. Then he picks up the shotguns and aims them both at the door.
The two men who were guarding the door bust in and they both get simultaneous blasts right in the stomach. He throws the shotguns on the ground and decides to toss the Python.
He looks towards a window and decides to climb through it, he slips and sprains his ankle landing next to a dumpster. A Diablo stallion pull up and eight Diablo's approach him, not including the two in the car.
'I'm in hell!' he thinks to himself.
"Yo, dog, I heard shooting in there, what's goin' on man."
"Those guys in there, they all fuckin' killed each other."
"Really, now why don't I believe you."
8-ball looks down at himself examining the bloody mess. He looks like a psychopath. "Shit!"
The men go for their guns and 8-ball has no choice, he reaches in his coat pocket and pulls out the dual Uzis he aims high shooting rounds of bullet into the Diablo's heads. He jumps up on the hood of the Diablo Stallion and drops the empty Uzis on the ground. He grabs his M9 and Desert Eagle. The two men in the car are unnarmed and he punches holes through the window blasting glass and blood into thin air. He manages to kick through the front windshield despite his sprained ankle, and he removes it like paper.
He pulls the two dead men from the car and gets inside. He drives away from the building with blood-soaked front seats, and no windshield.
The rain pound his face as he drives and he thinks to himself, 'This is my fuckin' lucky day!"