United We Die – Chapter 1: Street Talks

Chapter 1

Street Talks

September 1982

The streets of Downtown New York had suddenly become misty. And very eerie….

A cold chill had struck down Bartholomew Diggers spine. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up as he passed alleyway after alleyway, expecting something to move. Nothing…..

Diggers was a high ranking cop. He’d been in the field for almost 8 years now. 8 solid years of murders, muggings, rapes, vandalism.. he was getting too old for this.

‘So much for accounting’ he thought. His father wanted him to be an accountant. His father never liked cops. Then again,his BELOVED father never really abided by the rules. Neck-deep in trouble. This is what motivated Diggers to become a cop.

To be a  ‘GOOD BOY’.

Diggers clenched his revolver tightly. He was nervous, and the mist didn’t help.Diggers had received a tip that a gun running was being held in the 51st flat. There was nobody there. He had been set up. As he left the hall door we witnessed a figure,scampering away from an alley.He decided to pursue.

How very wrong he was.

As Diggers prowled around the misty streets,his boots drenched from the gutters, a rancid smell filled the air.Diggers gagged. He spat at the floor and carried on walking..and then he heard it.

A clanking noise. Almost like footsteps of an iron soldier.

CLANK CLANK CLANK

Diggers turned, although there was no one there. He carried on, his eyes beamed,scanning for movement.

CLANK CLANK CLANK

Diggers’s pulse began to quicken,his arms began to tremble. But he kept moving. His heart pounded against his ribs.

What was going on?

CLANK CLANK CLANK

Was it because he was newly selected lieutenant?

CLANK CLANK CLANK

He usually got death threats,but nothing like this.

CLANK CLANK CLANK

Now this clanking made him run. He was afraid,he was lost,he was sick.

CLANK CLANK CLANK

Oh why didnt listen to his stupid father? Why didn’t he become an accountant? Instead of dealing with this freaky deaky crap?

CLANK

What

CLANK

Was

CLANK

Going

CLANK

ON?????

Diggers never looked where he ran. CRUNCH! His face hit off something hard. He became dizzy. He could feel the hot rush of blood trickling down from his nose,touching his lips. He gasped for breath. His vision was blurred (or was that just the mist?)

A heavy rasping voice echoed out of nowhere and everywhere. Diggers trembled on the floor. His eyes had partly swollen up. All he could feel was pain.

“Bartholomew James Diggers, trained detective for 8 years,became lieutenant 2 years ago” came the rasping voice. A stench of smoke and alcohol filled whatever was left of Diggers’ nostrils. “Seems you got yourself inna’ bit of a state” continued the voice. “I’d say you want to finish this up fast. heh. So do I. But not before I give you a bit of information about myself”

A large figure stood towering over Diggers’ body.

“Who-who are you?” pleaded Diggers,blood gushed out of mouth as he spoke.

“Me? Why I’m the thing this city needs. PEST CONTROL. And by-God you are one heckuva pest.”

The huge figures boot crunched on top of Diggers’ back. He howled with pain.

The next morning Bartholomew James Diggers body was found inside a dustbin by a young boy.

Police were called immediately. They arrived within 7 minutes of the call.

A note was sewn on Diggers’ head saying “Nighty night”………………

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