Disclaimer: I did not make Sin City, or the Characters. They respectfully belong to Frank Miller and Dark Horse comics. Cheers to both for putting out something great.
Foreword from the Author: From what I've seen, the Sin City section which has recently opened could use a fic. In all cases I want to deliver one! I will be staring mainly my own character but some fan favorites (Dwight, Marv, The Salesmen, Kevin, The Roark's, and more will also be mentioned, conversed with and chatted about).
Props to the people that read this, Fan and Writers everywhere would be up shit creek with out you. Also, I'd like to mention, this is an alternate timeline, none of this has anything to do with any of my other stories.
Sin City
Dirty White Lies
Chapter One: Wish you
were here
The Bands playing like a broken record and all I can think about is when. When will they get here, when will my money be mine and when will I get the hell out of this cess pool of a bar. Sin City, it was a nice place if you were a cockroach or below. The bar itself is choked in smoke and I can barely keep my eyes open for three seconds before they tear up from that acrid smelling mist. In all respects I would kill the guy smoking the cigar over there had I a gun and the bar been a little emptier.
"Mr. Johansson."
I swiveled around and met my employers, two guys in suits. They hid their eyes and kept inconspicuous, not that it was hard in a dive like this.
"Where's my money?" I asked impatiently, I wasn't sticking around any longer then I had to.
The one on the left, dressed in an over shirt, shorts and black ball cap handed me a briefcase. The guy in the right had what looked like a massive rain slicker on but underneath I could tell he had a t-shirt and long light brown cargo pants. The one in the over shirt had chestnut brown hair; the one to the right of him had dirty blondish brownish hair.
I checked the bag and counted the money. Everything seemed to be in order till I looked up. I had a gut feeling that I should've had my piece on me. The two of them had guns buried deep into my chest. From that distance I knew damn well no one would hear the shots and what's worse the two had aimed for major points.
"Ah shit." I managed to get out before two unholy pains ripped my nerves limb from limb.
The Darkness enclosed my eyes and I felt an overwhelming calm take my body…
I quickly put my revolver away and grabbed the Money. My partner swiveled the dead man to the bar and put his head down on his forearms. The bartender came over and looked at him.
"He alright?" The guy asked concerned.
"Just too much to drink." I replied.
It'd be a couple hours before the dumbass figured out what had transpired in his bar. So everything was going as clockwork, nothing out of the ordinary. Me and my partner stepped out of the bar not saying a word to each other till me got into the car. My partner checked his watch. It was one of his ticks; he was punctual to a fault.
"8:52, not bad, I was expecting the guy to be a little more tanked and babble a bit before we had to remove him." My partner answered as I started the engine and tore off the down the street.
It was hotter then the pits of hell. Summers in the city were equivalent to those of Las Vegas or Phoenix. In the day, you could cook an egg on the sidewalk, in the evening you could cause rain by moving your hand through the humid air. The sewers would usually stink up the place and the lack of rain made it unbearable at times.
The car rolled across the brick roads and pavements. We crossed streets till we got uptown. There we could race to the finish without the threat of the cops. Our employer had the Basin City Police Department and he used them accordingly. So far he'd muscled out his competition by simply raiding them or hiring people to frame them, or simply hiring people to kill them. Of course no one who was hired for a single job lived after that job. Me and my Partner, we were the guys that saw that it went that way. The Boss didn't want word getting out that there was easy money in Sin City if you worked for him.
I smiled as we raced past 119th and Oakley. This was our territory and if anyone crossed it, they'd have to worry about a battalion of armed hit men whacking their guys left and right. I pulled up to the building and stopped the car. Me and my partner got out of the car and walked into the building passing the two armed guards. So far, I've only seen them in action once and that one time made me never want to see them in action again. I was stone cold but these guys were even more gruesome then some of the lone sharks we'd dealt with.
"Good Evening Mr. Kirra, Mr. McGuiness." The one on the left said.
My Partner and I stepped into the building and past the front desk, "Mr. Renveau is waiting for you." The secretary chimed in.
The elevator was behind a locked door that lead straight to Mr. Renveau's office. I've taken it many times and I still haven't gotten used to traveling 10 floors in 2 seconds. The ride itself took 6 seconds in all and I was always nauseous after it. My Partner and I stepped out the door and walked down the hallway. The door to Mr. Renveau's office was guarded by enough top notch guards that no one in their right mind would even dare want to tangle with him. Lucky for the two of us, we were granted passes into his office. They closed doors behind us and we stood silently. The chair slowly revolved around and Mr. Renveau looked at us in the eyes.
"You get the man?" The Boss asked.
"Yes we did, sir." I answered quickly.
He reached into a small wooden box and removed a cigar and looked at me and my Partner. After lighting it he took a puff and smiled.
"I like you two. You seem like rather low individuals but you compliment each other nicely." Mr. Renveau answered.
I smiled graciously at the compliment, "Thank you, sir."
"It is a pity you know, having to do this." Mr. Renveau answered shaking his head.
I hesitated with a response, "Do what sir?"
"This," He said.
The doors opened up and my partner and I turned around. We didn't stand a chance as the muscles grabbed us. I felt a sledgehammer knock the wind out of me; My Partner, hunched over, blood dribbled down his chin.
"You two boys, you fed up!" Renveau cursed, "There's word on the god damn street about these suicide jobs! And NOW GOD DAMNIT! I've got to put a lid on it. You let the word get out, or at least you didn't do your jobs and now you fing pay for it!"
I looked up at Renveau, my mind not going clearly, "It wasn't our fault."
"NO KIRRA! It is your fault. It was your duty for this never to slip out unless I wanted it to! I never remember wanting it to ever slip out so it's your fault!" Renveau shouted, "Now! Your lives are forfeit!"
My eyes widened as a thug raised a gun at me. They put towels on the ground and I felt the fiery burning sensation I'd felt so many times before tear through my lung. I hit the ground followed by another shot and my partner hitting the ground next to me. Poor Marty, he never even did anything, neither did I. God damn son of a bitch. I guess I was considered lucky, the dumb grunt muscle missed a vital point and my lung didn't take much blood but it sure looked like I was a dead guy.
Damnit Marty, I wish you were here and not among those mounds of corpses. That way I'd only have to kill for revenge, not to avenge you.