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writing-blocked · 6 years

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Shovel

Middle of the night, way after curfew for many of the towns spoiled rotten children and prestigious high-class members. A woman dressed in black walks down the naked streets, a shovel in hand and duffle bag at her side. Everyone knew her too well, but none knew her motives. Someone so gentle and yet so mysterious. None dared to ask about the job that she did in the dead of night. For only the moon and stars seem to know that secret and the "Lucky Ones”, but who dared to ask who those were.

Her strides, smooth yet quick.

The ones who were awake peeked out their darkened windows, watching as she walked through the middle of the moonlit street, shovel laid against her shoulder, holding it lightly with one hand. She caught the eye of a young child peeking out at her, toy shovel in hand as well. She smiled warmly at a blood-red scarf. Rumor had it that it was once beautifully clean white silk. However, due to the 'job' she had, her oh so very unorganized and messy involvement to many of the town's mysteries, if you'd even call them that, dyed it that dark and somewhat chilling color.

She turned the corner, into the darkness of an alley near the local and very low rated bar known as "Route 66", a very low rated bar due to how greasy the food was --but their alcohol mixtures were apparently a 'thing of legend'. She rested her shovel and bag near the dumpster and snuck in through the back. No one took notice except a rather tall and muscular man who caught her demanding blue eyes. The grin that was stained on his face quickly disappeared as she made her way over to him, never breaking eye contact. She sat at the barstool two seats away from him, the scarf slipping away from over her mouth and nose, revealing the light scar along her cheek leading to her eye.

The man broke the stare, feeling the silence swift through the few people there, the ones playing pool cocked their brows at him, as if shocked to see him not make a quick move to get names or even greet them with an offer of drinks, since they seemed new around there. The woman spoke softly to the bartender, ordering "A shot of Vodka whiskey mix ." She laid a $20 on the counter, asking politely for a few rounds. The tender made one quickly and began making more once she downed the first with a stable unshaken smile. The man watched as she down one by one until she laid another $20 on the counter. He slammed a $50 on top of it and nodding to the bartender. A murmur went through everyone as the woman looked at him, a smirk crossing her lips as she nodded, a devilish grin going along the Mans' face.

Someone in the crowd yelled at them. "Vincent don't challenge the shovel girl to a drinking contest!" The Woman laughed a bit looking back. "Yea Vince, don't challenge me ~. "

The way she said it made a chill go down his spine as the bartender handed them an entire bottle of pure grain alcohol. Vincent opened it quickly and chugged it, watching as she began drinking at the same pace he did, barely even phased by how strong it was.

Vince growled a bit staring her down, his grey eyes looking intense but curious. The woman smiled gently at him, her blue eyes seemingly glowing in the dim lights of the room Vincent mumbled softly, only so she could hear. "Leave with me." She tilted her head a bit, confused. "Why?" He growled a bit. "Just do it ya hear me?"

She nodded slowly, getting a few more shots, suddenly feeling Vincent grab her chin, kissing her gently. The entire bar hollered in surprised and laughed. She glared at him putting her hand on his neck as if it was her own kind of threat. Vincent growled a bit whispering." Just go along with it, act wasted, I have a Rep around here kid."

The woman chuckled a bit shoving him back playfully. "We all have a reputation, but some are much worse than many seem to think."

Vincent cocked an eyebrow slightly, glancing at the clock. "It's getting rather late, let's go. " He grabbed her wrist roughly and pulled her out into the back Alley.

She pulled away and grabbed her Shovel looking at him, his eyes looked hungrily at her. " I can't just leave with you, Vince...You don't even know who I am, or the shit I do.."

He held out his hand to her. "It's not good to just walk around alone in the dead of night, I'd rather you stay near me, there are lots of Crazy bastards in this town."

The woman chuckled slowly and turned away. "I help those crazy Bastards, Mutt." Vincent visibly flinched at the name. He growled a bit and ripped the Shovel from her hands, slamming her to the tagged brick wall ."I am a Crazy Bastard."

She stared up at him, a smile sneaking across her lips. "You have no idea what the hell my job is, and I'm sure I don't want to know yours." Vince stared at her, the hunger in his eyes making him look needy, almost like a puppy. The woman sighed softly looking at all the visible scars on his arms and face. He smirked a bit gently touching the scar on her cheek. "You're not even drunk, but I can tell you want something from me."

A hiss escaped her, feeling how warm his hands were against her ice-cold skin. He laughed softly moving his hand to hold her chin. " What's your name, Grave Robber?" His words seemed to cause a shiver go up to her spine. She moved away and grabbed the shovel. "I have a Job to do, I suggest go get your ' sacrificial lamb' before the moon, ya damned wolf." She walked down the alley, mumbling softly and moving the scarf over her mouth and nose. Vincent growled lowly as he got on his motorcycle, and slowly made his way down an empty road and to one made of dirt. He parked his bike near a small hut with a hatch inside He punched in numbers before looking over noticing a small shadowed figure make its way across the field and to the forest.

He chuckled a bit and got into the bunker, sealing the hatch again. He looked around, until catching a glimpse of something out of place. His gun Cabinet had been opened and behind him came a loud sound of a shotgun being loaded. He turned around quickly seeing an old friend behind him. "Farz what The hell are ye doin'!?" A southern draw lingered in his words, along with a burning sense of hatred from his chest.

The Small Man stood there, aiming to Vincent Chest. "I'm Sorry Vincent, I can't just keep doing this, Now please, Leave before I unload a few pounds of Silver in you." Vincent growled a bit and lunged at the smaller man before he got a chance to even put his finger on the trigger, prying the gun from his hands. He shoved Farz to the ground, watching his eyes swell up with hot tears as he pressed the barrel of the shotgun right to his head. "Tell me why I shouldn't just kill you right now, ya fucking traitor!" Farz Stared up at him, taking a moment to choose his words wisely. "There's a Storm coming Vincent, a storm that'll tear this damn county apart!" He took in a shaky breath. "And I'm not gonna let myself get killed by that damn Thing!" Vincent growled pressing his head back into the cement. "But you'd rather unload silver in me than have me keep you here?"

Farz stays silent and watches as Vincent puts his finger to the trigger. Vincent looked away and took in a deep and shaky breath. "You Should've been there, you would have told me to just leave the damn brat be, but I guess now I'll just have to find her so I don't eat you even after you've been killed ." Farz gasped with the intent of speaking but was cut off by the gun, causing parts of his head to splatter against the wall and on Vincent himself.

He sighed softly and walked back to the gun cabinet and moved it to the side, opening a small closet from it and pulling out some clean clothes and a small body bag. He went back over to the small body and carefully put it in the bag. He slipped off his dirty shirt and wiped down the bloodied up wall, once finished tossed it.

He got into the New clothes and then looked at the body bag. "Damn it, kid. Be lucky you got this fate than the 'Sacrificial Lambs', Of course, you're about the size of one." He carefully nudged the Bag with one of his boots.

After an hour he made his way out of the bunker, body bag over his right shoulder, shovel in another hand. Once out he sealed the hatch and made his way across the field and to the forest. Vincent walked until his feet were sore and his legs felt weak. He laid the body down and leaned against a sturdy looking tree, staring at the clover patched and mossy ground. “Damn Punk, if only you had just kept your ass outta trouble…”

Vincent slowly began shoveling until he heard what he thought were footsteps, light yet quick, almost as if it was a rabbit scurrying away from a predator.

He kept digging until a voice made a chill go through his bones. “You're not doing it right.” He looked over to where he heard the voice, head moving at neck-breaking speed until he made eye contact with the woman from just hours ago. Her blue eyes glowed brightly in the barely moonlit darkness of the woods around them. She smiled warmly at him behind the blood-red scarf. Vincent sighed softly, somewhat annoyed with her tone. “ If you're so good at this shit then why don't you do it for me, huh brat?” She stepped closer and grabbed the shovel from him, and began digging at a much faster and even pace.

After just half an hour she had a hole dug, she moved aside slightly allowing Vincent to carelessly kick the body in, without any regard for the term ‘Respect The Dead’. He looked at her feeling the wind pick up. “ How'd you know I was here?” She shrugged a bit and slowly began walking the way he came from. “ I finished doing a job and I heard you make noises while you dig, it's better to be silent and breath through your nose than breathing through your mouth and make whatever animal noise you were making, damned wolf.”

Vincent growled softly following closely behind her. “ Shut up you damn Grave Robber.” She laughed a bit removing her scarf, releasing a soft misty breath in the warm autumn air. Vincent took notice, cocking a brow at what looked like cigarette smoke. She looked at him. “ Say, Vince, what do you think fallen angels are like, or Nagas and Cryptids? ‘ Vincent shrugged and stuffed his hands into his jacket pockets. “ Not much of a fan of those fallen angel types, those Nagas and Cryptids though, there's something to cherish the company of.” He smiled a bit, revealing sharp as dagger type canine teeth, almost dog looking. “She smiled back just the same, her teeth looking as if it had been cavity and plaque free for millennia, looking just as sharp as their gleam in the moon. Vincent sighed a bit looking ahead of him.

She followed his gaze a moment. “ Do you have any place to stay, Grave Robber?” She slowly shook her head. “ I'm a nomad, but it's no big deal, Wolfy.” Her words seemed to have a childlike tone towards the end, causing Vincent to laugh a bit. “How about this, Doll. You can live in my bunker but once it's getting closer to the full moon, you can stay in my apartment, Deal?” She stopped in her tracks, her eyes wide in shock.

“You...Don't even know my name, why do you trust me to just...Sleep in your dwelling?”

Vincent shrugged a bit holding his hand out to her smiling. “ Dumbassery and Trust, after all, it would be nice to trust someone for once without having ‘em threaten to fill ya’ with silver.” She stared at him a moment, slowly she grabbed his seemingly blistering warm hand with her frigged and unsteady one. Vincent held her small hand in his, gently kneeling down cupping both in his, slowly rubbing them together. “Damn, how are you so cold, sugar?” His tone seemed almost fatherly and calm. She shrugged a bit looking away, feeling her sleeve be pushed up, revealing a mark on her wrist. A bite mark and the edges of it looked as if it were a pulse wrapping around her entire wrist. Vincent took notice. “ Nice tattoo, how long have you had it?” She slipped her hand away, looking at it.

“That’s another story for another day, mein guter Freund.” her voice drifted off toward the end, making it seem it was something rather personal. Vincent nodded and slowly began walking again, feeling the wind begin to pick up. “So, what is your name?” She took a moment to think before responding. “Clover Gray, I'd rather be known as someone with a beautifully unique name than one so plain and boring.” Vincent nodded a bit. “Well, it's nice to know, Clover.”

She nodded a bit almost tripping due to the sudden strong gust of wind followed by the sudden downfall of purse icy cold bullets of rain. Vincent scooped her up and began to run, trying to get back to the shelter before everything was just flooded swampy marsh. Clover covered her face with her arms as Vincent raced through the trees, feeling as the hard pellets hit against them. Halfway to the field, he froze, spotting the heart of the storm. Half a mile from them it swept through the fields, the rumble of it nearly deafening. The Trees swayed in the winds, branches beginning to snap at the sheer force

Vincent looked at the small shack then down at Clover. “Hold on Gray, this is gonna be a train wreck.” and with that, he began running, faster than he did before to the small shack that held the hatch to the bunker. Clover screamed in surprise as she looked to the large tornado not too far from them. It was getting closer, fast. Clover covered her eyes again shaking in fear until Vincent got to the bunker, sealing the hatch shut and grabbing a few lanterns seeing the power was entirely out and that the generator was out of fuel. Clover sat on the cement floor, looking around the room. There were blood stains on the floor near the bed and the seemed to be scratched on the wall near the gun cabinet. She quickly took notice of the calendar above a messy workbench, the days of full and half moons marked.

“Wolfie, why are those days marked?” Vincent sighed softly looking to the calendar “Those were the days I would have you stay in the apartment, but since you're here with me in this damned August storm, I'm gonna have to..I don't know..” Clover looked to the Gun Cabinet and then looked back to him. Slowly she began putting pieces together.

Moon changes marked on calendars, silver bullets, the beastly sharpness to his canines, the dislike for fallen angels, and maybe an answer to all the scars on his body.

Clover tensed up, slowly standing up and walking to him. “Vincent, what are you?” He took a moment to respond before he turned away and looked down at the workbench. “An Animal, a freak if you'd like. A God Damned Monster!” He punched the cement wall in front of him, a dent was barely visible, but it sure as hell was there. Clover was startled by the sudden rush of anger, followed by a sudden wave of regret.

She gently touched his forearm, pulling him back from the spot he was. Vincent Stared down at her, eyes looking as if he wanted to just destroy everything around him.

She made him focus on her, all by just making a sound, one a child would’ve made if they were about to burst into tears.

Vincent carefully hugged her, shaking from the rage that had engulfed him. “I'm sorry, I lose my temper far quicker than I would before the moons get closer to this kind of change.” Clover hugged him back talking calmly before noticing patches of his hair move slightly, revealing what looked like dog ears. His eye looked bright in the dimly lit room. Clover looked up at him, smiling gently. “Wolfie, how long do you think this storm will last?” No answer, just a scoff of irritation.

They kept silent, not knowing what to say. They listened to the Storm, every sudden clash of thunder made Clover flinch, hugging onto Vince as the night went on.

The next morning Clover woke up to the loud snore of the beast sleeping next to her on the cold floor. She glanced over at him smiling, seeing he was still a little human. Slowly she got up from the cement floor and over to the workbench, grabbing hold of a small bag of what looked like Jerky rations. The bag was labeled in silver with the initials of CG. Clover slowly opened it and began nibbling on a small piece, sure it didn't taste much like any normal jerky like turkey or deer. At least it was food.

Clover flinched slightly hearing Vincent growl in his sleep. She glances back at him only to look back to the desk, noticing a small black book. Curiosity killed the cat they say, but curiosity seemed to eat the little grave digger alive. She slowly opened it, reading the first few pages quickly and then flipped to the next few pages. Clover froze, eyes locked on a date. It was written in messy yet still understandable Cursive.

07/07/XX - Day three of seeing that lantern float through the field, someone must be out patrolling the fields. Wonder who they are

7/10/XX - Farz has gotten a bit distant with me, I hope I haven't done anything to piss him off. Maybe a date at a good place would cheer my little guy up.

8/1/XX - I lost the book for a while, nothing much has changed except the frequency of seeing that damn lantern. I'm gonna have to change the code to get in here.

8/5/XX - Farz is looking at other places, barely any more people come to our normal turf, Maybe we could have Lawrence help us too? But what would a drugged up and shy Cryptid do to help get me a damn lamb?

8/16/XX - I haven't seen Farz in awhile, I hope no one tried to do anything to him. I can have anything harm him, or the brat in his head. Who would've thought he'd be possessed by someone from the past, Maybe The German from the Braying Mule knows who it could be unless his fox got ‘em already.

Clover was engulfed while reading his logs, unknowing Vincent was behind her. He watched as her cold yet gentle hands held the pages, turning them slowly. Vincent chuckled softly watching as she came to the end. Clover jumped and closed the book looking up at him. Her blue eyes wide with fear. “ Oh, Hey Wolfie.” Vincent smiled wide, showing off how sharp his teeth had gotten. “ Hey little flower, what on earth do you think you're doing?” The only answer he got from her was a frightened whimper as he scooped her up in his arms. A rumble of thunder shook the bunker causing the lanterns to move on the hooks near the ceiling. Clover sighed and looked at the calendar, thinking of what would come. “ How much longer until the full moon?”

Vincent’s mood changes quickly and he glared at the calendar, setting Clover down. “Tonight.” He grabbed the calendar and threw it across the room at the Gun cabinet. Clover grabbed his arm and tried to calm him down but to no avail. He punched the cement wall hard until he suddenly feeling something hit him in the shoulder blade. He stopped and looked at Clover, shovel in hand. He rushed her suddenly, hands gripping onto the wood and pushing it to her throat. She tried fighting back, trying to gasp for air.

Once Vincent saw what he was doing he released his grip and took a step back.

Clover sat on her knees, not daring to look up at him. They sat in intense silence, the only noise heard was the rumble of thunder and the groans from Vincent as he changed slowly. Once it was closer to the evening Vincent growled softly and picked her up. “I'm sorry you got wrapped up in this, but once this storm is over you...go back to what you do.” Clover nods and lays her head against his broad shoulders. “ Yes, Mister Wolf” Vince laughed softly mumbling. “ Good, Little Red Riding Hood .”

Clover looked up at him, her once bright blue eyes were now grey, now matching Vincents. A sudden rush a pain went through him and he rushed to the Gun cabinet. Quickly he typed in the code and shoved Clover in Slamming it closed. She stared at him in shock. Vince gripped the caged window of the cabinet doors. “I'm sorry, but I'd rather keep you safe than tear you to shreds.” Clover Leaned against the doors staring at him. She covered her mouth with as he started to change. A Long Low Howl filled the bunker and he rushed the gun cabinet. Clover screamed feeling a deep scratch go across her face and arm that she used to try and protect herself.

Her arm bled heavily, and just the sight of it made her light-headed. She fainted in the midst of the Beastly rage from the Werewolf she once knew to be a short-tempered man. Vincent tore up the Bunker, leaving deep gashes on the cement wall and knocking the Gun Cabinet to its side.

This went on until the sun began to rise. Vincent laid limp on the ground, groaning softly as he turned back to his original human form. A Soft whine came from the gun cabinet, causing him to flinch. Clover slowly awoke from passing out, looking at the small caged window of the cabinet. The Mark on her face and arm pulsed with her heartbeat.

Slowly her eyes came to focus, looking straight into the strong steel color of Vincent’s. He typed in the code and carefully pulled Clover out, holding her close and looking at the mark he made. “I'm sorry little flower, I didn't mean to harm you. Let's get this cleaned up huh?” Clover nodded slowly, still a little out of it. Vincent stood up and opened the closet taking out a first aid kit, and a bottle of what looked like rubbing alcohol.

Clover watched him closely, seeing how torn up his clothes were. Vincent walked back to her kneeling down, carefully cleaning the wound with the bottle of ‘Rubbing Alcohol’. Clover yelped from pain and pulled her arm back whining. “The Hell is that!?”

Vincent chuckled softly, taking a quick gulp of what was in the bottle before grinning darkly at her. “Everclear!” Clovers eyes widened a bit, she could drink lots of alcohol in one sitting, but Everclear? That's far from being tolerable. Clover let him take her arm back as he continued to clean the wounds, using a cloth to clean the gash along her face, that not being as deep as the one on her arm. She winced slightly due to the sting, but only a bit.

Once finished she hugged Vincent tightly hearing static from the radio. A soft and saddening tune began as all the sounds of the storm came to an end. Vincent gently hugged her back standing up and holding her still, walking to the hatch in the ceiling. Clover looked back to the radio mumbling softly. “ ‘The Last to Say’ by Atmosphere.” Vincent sighed softly. “ You listen to that too huh?” Clover nodded slightly tearing up. He nodded, gently petting her hair. “That's ok, we all have our sad song we go to when we need to just forget everything.” Clover nodded sniffling a bit, wiping away her tears. She watched as he opened it with ease climbing, looking around at the destruction surrounding them.

The song plays loudly behind them , causing Clover to break down in his arms. Vincent spoke softly holding her close. Like a father with his young and damaged child with no where else to go.

This was all that was left. Just them amongst the rubble of the small world they knew so well.

#VincentMetzger #Boyfriendtodeath2 #btd2 vincent #ShortStory

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writing-blocked · 7 years

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Been getting a homophobic comments and I will not tolerate that. You will be blocked for homophobia or any other type of discrimination.

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writing-blocked · 7 years

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Brazilian graphic designer and illustrator Butcher Billy got the idea of turning famous love hits into book covers of horror master Stephen King.

Joy Division’s “Love Will Tear Us Apart,” The Smiths, “Head Over Heels” by Tears For Fears and many others were portrayed in a very unusual way.

“This series imagines an alternate universe where some of the most desperate and tragic romantic songs in the ‘70s and’ 80s are actually books written by Stephen King. The concept is to look at the dark side of love by the vision of pop culture, bringing aspects of its classic stories to play the true meaning of the songs - this can be completely subverted or stressed strangeness, while paying tribute to the vintage design of the original covers,” Butcher writes on his Behance.

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writing-blocked · 7 years

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Some words to use when writing things:

winking

clenching

pulsing

fluttering

contracting

twitching

sucking

quivering

pulsating

throbbing

beating

thumping

thudding

pounding

humming

palpitate

vibrate

grinding

crushing

hammering

lashing

knocking

driving

thrusting

pushing

force

injecting

filling

dilate

stretching

lingering

expanding

bouncing

reaming

elongate

enlarge

unfolding

yielding

sternly

firmly

tightly

harshly

thoroughly

consistently

precision

accuracy

carefully

demanding

strictly

restriction

meticulously

scrupulously

rigorously

rim

edge

lip

circle

band

encircling

enclosing

surrounding

piercing

curl

lock

twist

coil

spiral

whorl

dip

wet

soak

madly

wildly

noisily

rowdily

rambunctiously

decadent

degenerate

immoral

indulgent

take

invite

nook

indentation

niche

depression

indent

depress

delay

tossing

writhing

flailing

squirming

rolling

wriggling

wiggling

thrashing

struggling

grappling

striving

straining

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writing-blocked · 7 years

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Athazagoraphobia

The fear of being Forgotten, Left Behind, or Abandoned

#phobias

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writing-blocked · 7 years

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Is it ok if i swear?

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writing-blocked · 7 years

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Graffiti King Pt.2

“Shot Glass”

Miah stared at the horizon as the sun began to rise from its signature spot in the sky.

The Eastward balcony was a perfect place to watch, but sadly it wasn't a place for him to be due to his fear of heights.

The sudden shift of the covers on the couch caused him to jump and look over to the passed out Max. Her hands were still stained with the Red and Green paint from the Cans, and her face had small spots of black paint spray along her nose and cheeks.

She whined softly keeping the blanket wrapped around herself as the temperature in the room seemed to get colder. Miah sighed and walked over grabbing a warm washcloth and gently wiping away the small spots. She moved away, whining softly and rolling over clinging to the blankets. Miah sighed softly and sat on the floor, staring at the static-filled TV. His eyes began to get heavy and he could barely keep his head up. Miah was someone who barely ever sleeps, he was always working and keeping himself busy somehow just to try and avoid it.

But eventually, he always drifts off, into something he cant control.

He jumped suddenly looking around in a panic. Everything seemed frozen in time, even the TVs constant static seemed to move slower than it normally would. Miah slowly stood up, feeling something cold and heavy in his hand. A Gun. He was surprised to see something he could use as a means of defense. Unless it was meant for something else.

He walked across the room and turned to the empty hallway leading to his room. The hallway was dark and the only thing lighting it was a dim 'night light', as Max likes calling it. At the end of the hall stood something tall, something made of what looked as if it was nothing but ink and shadows. It stepped closer, causing a feeling of dread and fear run over him. A loud, haunted and cruel sounding laugh began echoing around Miah as the beast drew closer.

His grip tightened on the gun, his finger latching onto the trigger. His heart felt weak as the creature got closer, seeing as if it was just gliding on the carpeted hallway floor. Miah pointed the gun at them, aiming for where the heart would've been. He wasn't thinking anymore, it was all instinct now. He shot them, once to kill, another for good measure, and a third time in the head. Â

The thing fell to the floor, a purple substance leaking not just from the bullet wounds, but out its nose and eyes. Its face tore open and a shrill scream echoed around with the deafening laughter.

Miah's eyes trailed along the scene, watching as the beast trembled and cried out for whatever was around to possibly save it.

The beast scratched and tore at the floor, as if it was trying to dig away at the fabric of reality itself, but to no avail. It suddenly gave in, collapsing to the floor, becoming a puddle of ink and something rotten. Miah couldn't look away from it, watching as it disappeared into the already stained and torn up carpet.

He stepped back, feeling the gun get heavy in his hand. A sharp yet swift blow came through his chest as he fell to his knees, something cold and solid pressing against his forehead. He stared up, looking at something made entirely of pure white Light, holding something long and blunt.

A bat.

Miah smiled gently at the being, pointing his gun up to their chest. They tilted their head, softly pushing his head back with the Bat.

Miah pulled the trigger, see the bullet go through them, but no bullet wound.

He shot them over and over until he was out of ammo.

The being seemed to smirk, and lift the bat to swing, hitting him hard against his temple, forcing him to the ground.

He jerked awake, feeling the dampness of the floor around him.

Max stood over him, holding a Bucket, a tired and angered look on her face. " Miah, what have I told you about sleeping on the floor?" Miah slowly got up and walked to the hall removing his wet shirt, Ignoring what Max had said. He stepped into his room and threw his clothes onto the floor. Max stepped in a moment and grabbed his arm. " Miah, may I see your scars please, I wanna see if they are reopening or something."

Miah groaned softly and sat on his bed, arms crossed over his chest.

Max gently moved his arms, sighing softly she gently tracing her fingers over the scars under his breasts." Miah, have you been putting the medicine on them?"

He nodded slowly, feeling embarrassed about the entire situation. Max nodded a bit and handed him a dark gray shirt. " OK, I'm sorry for bugging you like this." Her eyes seemed clouded and sore from what looked like hours of crying

Miah gently picked her up and carried her to the kitchen. " I'll make lunch OK?"

Max did a soft whine as he sat her on the counter patting her back. " Ramen or Mac n Cheese? "

He though for a moment and looked at her. " What would you want?"

Max shrugged a bit sniffling. " Could I have both?" He laughed softly petting her head, his fingers nearly tangling in her knotted curly hair.

Max watched as he made the food, the hunger in her stomach rising with the tick of the clock.

Once finished she sat at the table and began eating, stuffing herself with the Mac n Cheese, leaving the Ramen for last.

Miah smiled a bit, walking to the living room and shuffling his cards, pulling out a Gray 6 of Hearts. He narrowed his eyes a bit, laying the card face down on the table. He then picked up the card Max got from the man last night, looking at the light yet very vibrant design on it.

"Hey Max, this is apparently where you'll be working if you take the job, do you want me to help make an appointment to meet with the boss or anything?" Max stopped eating for a moment, looking to Miah a bit on edge. " No thanks Miah, ill meet him whenever I feel like it." Miah nodded, putting the card into Max's wallet.

Late that evening Max went out, leaving Miah at the apartment. She wore her the clothes from the night before, the only difference being her leather jacket with silver angel wings embedded into the back. Many people noticed her from school or just places from around the ballpark or 'graffiti hangouts', other than that it was just friendly strangers giving a polite hello.

Max stepped down an ally, her heartbeat steady, and face without worry. She stopped near the dumpster a moment, looking out to the people passing by. A small husky peeks its head out from around the dumpster, his tongue sticking out. Max smiled a bit giving him a small pet as she walked deeper into the ally, listening to the distant siren of an ambulance. The city was much more crime-ridden during the day, barely anything went on during the night except graffiti and gambling.

She flinched suddenly seeing the light of a club sign flash on and off a few times before actually staying on. A man stood in front of the door, dressed in all black, his eyes covered by dark glasses. Max stepped over to him, holding out her ID, hoping to get in. He glanced at it a moment then shook his head. "Sorry kid, I don't think you have the right invitation to get in here." His voice was rough and somewhat demanding.

Max tilted her head a bit and put her ID back in her wallet. "What kind of invitation do I need, sir?" He glanced around behind the glasses, his posture stiffening. He gave no answer as more people started heading their way. Max repeated her question, her voice getting much more demanding and angered. He looked at her and mumbled darkly like he was trying to get her to go away. "An invitation from the Boss, One I doubt you would have, Punk."

Max thought for a moment and pulled out the business card she was given last night at the 'graffiti brawl'. The man took off his sunglasses and took the card, quickly glancing at Max every few seconds as he pulled out a hole punch, putting one in the corner of the card. "Congratulations, you can go in." He handed Max back the card as she walked passed him and into the dim blue lighted corridor, seeing an upside down Silver Ace of Hearts engraved into the big doors.

She pushed them open, feeling the crisp cold air and artificial fog whirled around her. She looked around a moment, walking through the crowd of people and over to the bar, taking a seat at one of the swivel stools. She sat quietly watching as everyone who entered danced or began drinking as they 'socialized' with complete strangers. She laughed softly looking to the bartender, ordering a 'White Gummy Bear'.

Max watched as he mixed Cherry Vodka, Peach Schnapps, Pineapple Juice, and a splash of Sprite into a tall shot glass with a soft engraving of a skull on it. She thanked him with a five dollar tip, in return he allowed her to keep the glass, engraving Her name into it with his knife.

Max Listened as the room went silent, a chill going through her. She looked towards the Entrance, seeing the man from last night. The bartender leaned over as he cleaned a beer mug. "That's King, but I'm sure you've already met him, right?"

Max slowly nodded, whispering back to him. " I met Him last night, why you ask?" The Bartender glanced at King, then Back to Max. " Most people wait weeks before even coming here to meet him, or anyone else for that matter, you're early I guess."

Max looked at him, confused about what he really meant by 'being early'.

She looked back to where King was standing, seeing he had drifted somewhere else in the crowd of people. She finished her 3rd shot and allowed the bartender to clean the glass before she stuffed it into her jacket pocket.

She wandered into the crowd listening as everyone started back up their conversation, excitement lingering in their words.

Max glared at a few people as she snaked their way past them, ignoring whatever trashy pickup line they had for her. She flinched suddenly feeling someone grab her arm and pull her back. "Where you think you're going sweetheart, why don't you get back here and show my friends a good time, huh?" Max growled, smelling the whiskey off his breath. She jerked away from him attempting to loosen his grip on her. He gripped hard onto her arm, sinking his nails into her skin. Max Raised her hand to punch him but stopped, arm in mid-swing.

A cold, gentle yet firm hand held hers in place. She watched the strangers face shift from confidence, to pure terror. He let her go and ran off towards the entrance with a few of the friends he had with them. Max looked at the dark purple and blue handprint on her pale arm, feeling as pain and anger surged through her. The soft grip on her hand disappeared but followed with a soft familiar voice. "Are you alright, did he do any real damage on you ?"Â Max turned around and looked up at him. "I'm fine, don't worry about me."

He chuckled a bit and Led her to the back of the club. "Of course I should, besides, you're gonna be working for me aren't' cha?" Max stopped a moment and stared at him, realizing it was King. She studied his features, noticing how neatly he dressed and the small hints of a purple highlight in his black hair, soon making eye contact with his bright green and gold eyes. She spoke softly, yet still loud enough so he could hear. " Wait, does that mean I got the job?" King laughed softly leading her to the back of the club, holding open a door that had a Green 4 of Clubs engraved into it, greeting them with a staircase. King glanced to Max, the Cheshire cat smile from the night before glued to his face "You already had the job, all that I really depended on is if you showed up for it." Max smiled a bit, following him up the stairs into a king-sized office. He stepped behind his desk and sat down typing on his computer.

Max looked around, noticing the Gun cabinet beside what looked like a bedroom door. "What kind of guns do you have?" Her voice laced with curiosity. King didn't even look up from his computers he spoke. " Just your standard Rifles, nothing special." Max looked back to him, her eyes seeming to glow in the dimly lit room. King chuckled softly, looking up to meet her gaze, a gentle smirk on his face.

"What's the matter Firefly, you wanna hold one?" Max flinched at the nickname, her eyes darting away from his. "Don't call me that, but yes, I would like too." King took note about the nickname as he stood up, walking to the cabinet unlocking it. "Come take your pick, sometimes I can teach you how to shoot one, maybe." Max stepped over and picked up a silver rifle with a diamond pattern on it, carefully aiming it to the wall. "No need, I know how." Her voice stern, yet calm. King tilted his head a bit, his eyes seeming dark." Who taught you?" Max gave no answer as she put the gun back in the case and went back to the chair sitting across from the desk.

King walked back over handing her a file and a pen. Max read through everything carefully, signing her name neatly at the end. King took back the file and locked it in his desk. Max looked towards the window, watching as the sunset turned the room a light orange, a gentle smile forming on her face.

King stared at her, he could tell she had millions of things to say, an idea slowly coming to him.

"What's your poison, darling?" His voice was smooth yet chilling. Max watched as he walked over to another part of the room, pressing a button on the wall causing a section of the floor to raise up, turning it into a smooth countertop. Max slowly got up and stepped over, watching as he started pulling out alcohol from the cabinets. "My poison is known as a 'White Gummy Bear' but I doubt you know exactly how to make it," King smirked as she set the shot glass that she got from the bartender, he grabbed the bottles of Cherry Vodka, Peach Schnapps, Sprite, and a can of Pineapple Juice.

Max watched as he mixed them into the glass, but before he handed it back to her he placed a White Gummy Bear in the middle, letting it float. Max laughed softly as she drank t, slowly chewing on the bear. "I shouldn't doubt you, even though you have the eyes of someone who never served any drinks in his life." King laughed softly leaning on the counter, his eyes seeming to light the area around them. "I learned this from my father, and I'll take a guess that yours taught you how to shoot?"

Max's expression changed suddenly, her eyes moving quickly down, away from his gaze.

"If you want me to talk about that shit, you better get me drunk, ya hear me? King nodded a bit and opened the cabinets. "Then what's your poison, the real one."

Max looked up to all the alcohol he had. "Smirnoff, give the entire bottle." King glanced back at her and handed her the bottle, questioning himself about if this is safe. "Drink up darling." Max swiftly opened the drink, taking in deep gulps of the strong liquor, barely seeming fazed by how much she already drank. King sighed softly looking away." How many bottles can you drink without getting completely shit faced?" Max thought a minute, tapping her fingers on the bottle. "I think about almost 3." King laughed a bit laying his head on the counter. " You handle your alcohol far too well at your age ."

Max took another deep drink laughing softly, a few hiccups starting up. "I'm 23, I'm not that young you weirdo." King laughed a bit patting her shoulder. "You are to me, I'm 26 you midget." Max snorted in the mix of laughter and hiccups, her eyes watering a bit. They went on like that for a good hour, Max drinking more and more, barely seeming anywhere close to drunk. She pushed away from the second bottle of Smirnoff, grabbing King's final bottle from him and chugging it. King stared at her, completely mystified by how well she was taking them. "What, are you surprised I'm not completely ' Pixilated ' yet?" Max's words slurred a bit, a Russian like accent mixing with her words.

King tilted his head a bit. "Pixilated?" His words were filled with curiosity, mostly about her word choice. Max mumbled softly staring at him blankly "Shit-faced drunk." King laughed a bit, watching her eyelids get heavier. "Are you ready to talk yet darling?"

No response.

"Max?"

Max looked at him a moment, eyes glossy and dark. She drank what was left of the bottle, gently gliding her nails along its body. The sound filled the silent room, making a soft echo surround them both. King studied her actions closely, watching as she seemed to study the sound the empty bottle made under her nails. King tilted his head a bit, carefully moving his hand to touch hers. Max stayed still but finally spoke. "When I got here, I thought it was just a normal club. I didn't know you owned this place." Â

King stared at Max, seeing tears beginning to flood from her eyes. She shut them tightly, trying to cut off the heavy stream of hot tears as they rolled down her seemingly ice cold skin. King reacted quickly, trying to wipe her eyes but felt her hands on his chest pushing him back. He stepped back watching as she rubbed her eyes with the sleeve of the jacket, gripped tightly onto the empty bottle. He studied her movements as she stood up, looking to the ground as she spoke softly. "You only have one shot, shoot it or lose it ." She looked to King, her eyes glossed over and red from the still flowing tears. "So don't waste your time with someone like me." King gently grabbed her shoulder, whispering to her in a calm tone. "You're not wasting my time, if you were I wouldn't be tolerating what you're saying or doing."

Max jerked away from him, her voice seeming shrilled and cold "Don't fucking lie to me!" Max's voice filled with what sounded like terror as she slammed the bottle on the floor. She froze after a moment, looking down to the bottle, realizing watched done. "S...Sorry....I didn't meant-." She cut herself off covering her mouth, stepping back from the glass shards scattered around on the floor. King quickly cleaned up the shards, dumping them into the trash, grabbing a bottle of sprite. He approached Max with caution, seeing the panic in her eyes. King spoke softly, carefully holding his hand out to her like one would to a cat in fear of being bitten or scratched. Max studied him carefully, stepping back and leaning onto the wall, she trembled and slowly slid down, hugging herself.

Â King knelt down, looking at Max's sore and bloodshot eyes. He spoke softly, in a means to soothe her. She made a soft, almost animal-like noise as she made eye contact with King, mumbling softly. "You look just like him." King tilted his head a bit, confused about what she was talking about. "I look like who?" Max made no attempt to respond, causing the haunting silence to return. King placed the sprite down next to her, repeating the question. Max looked down, mumbling softly.

"Baba.”

King tilted his head a bit, jumping suddenly hearing Max's phone go off. She tossed it to him. "I'm too drink to message him back, he's probably worried about me." King looked and seen it was Jeremiah.

J: 'Max where the hell are you?'

King sighed and started texting him back.

'Max is drunk, Your talking to King '

J: ' WHAT'

'What, big surprise? Cool, but right now I may need you to come get her, she's pretty messed up, and I feel stupid for letting this happen'

J: ' I'm on my way'

'One more thing'

J: 'Yea?'

'Whos Baba?'

J: '...Fuck...'

'What???'

J: ' That's what she calls Her Father, He's in prison '

'For what?'

J: 'Rape, child abuse, public intoxication, you name it, He was a bad man, and hopefully he won't be released anytime soon.'

'...Damn...'

J: ' She'll talk to you about her past, but right now all she needs is rest and maybe some sprite.'

'Alright, tell me when you're here'

King looked to Max, seeing the bottle of sprite not empty and laying on its side." Thank you, for letting me have this job, I'll try to not get like this ever again." King nodded a bit, moving to sit next to her. "It's no problem Max, and don't worry, I'll keep everything between us ok?" Max nodded a bit glancing to the phone once it buzzed. King slowly got up and picked up her jacket handing it to her. "C'mon, Jeremiah's here." Max sighed and slowly got up, leaning on the wall for support. "He's gonna get so mad at me." King gently picked her up once she got the jacket on and carried her downstairs, and outside to Jeremiah. "I'll call you both a cab, I don't need her getting arrested, or you for that matter." Miah thanked him quietly, laughing a bit. "You're a really nice guy, dealing with us criminals ."

King laughed and patted Miah's shoulder. "You're a good guy Miah, really good." Once the Cab got her Miah helped Max while King paid the driver, Miah soon telling him the address.

Once King got the message from Miah that they were home safe, he headed home as well, laying on the couch, and watching the news. Taking notes of all the other gangs they found in the city, even ones that they've found before. Back at Miah's and Max's apartment Max went to her room, leaving her door open for cool air to get in. Miah laid down in his room, listening to the soft sirens and traffic, a chill going down his spine. Hoping to not slip into sleep again. Â

A man stood outside the building, his back against the graffiti-covered wall, bringing a small walkie-talkie to his face. "Sire, I've found them, Next order?"

#graffiti king #graffiti #short story #chapter 2 #art #story #book

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writing-blocked · 7 years

Text

Graffiti King Pt.1

“Paint Stains”

May 25, The last day of school for some in the Sheria district. The last day of hell and maybe the start of an even shittier time of year.

The final bell rang as a young girl ran out from the doors and jumped down the steps, landing on the new skateboard she had won in the ticket raffle a few nights before at a bar with her friends.

Her eyes burned bright with a hungered, yet freed expression.

Like all burdens were lifted from her shoulders

She was free-spirited and rebellious but wasn't afraid to get into any trouble when it came to the law or family. She wore a dark gray tank top and black jean leggings. She also had black combat boots with her jacket around her waist, a backward cap on her head with a bit of fluffed blond and blue curled hair stuck out of the hole.

She got a head start on the street before a sudden rush of cars came in from both sides, yells from both adults and teens full of surprise and anger.

She kept going listening to their yelling full of piss and vinegar.

She swerved suddenly seeing the cop car in the distance as she sped down the street, her heart already beating from the adrenaline. The cop siren went off and began growing louder as she passed them.

The car trailed close behind her as she made a sharp turn into the ally and ran through picking up her board and hiding behind a torn up mattress behind a dumpster. The car slowly strolled through and stopped at the end, slowly backing out back to the street, not bothering with want to call backup if something had happened.

She peeked out a bit, jumping, hearing the familiar voice behind her.

"Max, get out from the mattress, the boy in blue is gone."

She slowly crawled out and looked up at the man in a messy paint stained gray hoodie, and black jeans. " Awe c'mon Miah, you know I got a bad rap with the Blue's."

Miah was someone you would see picking up chicks at the bar, smooth-talking yet slightly quiet when you start getting to know him more.

He was tall, gentle-looking, with a soft scar along the bridge of his nose.

His hair was colorful no doubt about it, it had a mix of blues and soft following green, mostly faded now.

Miah and pulled Max up and taking her backpack. " I know, but you know how easy it is to get caught vandalizing a wall or bench, even weeks after you've done it."

Miah led Max out of the ally and into the paint store next door laying a few bucks on the counter.

"I'm here for they Spray paint darling, by the crate load."

The woman behind the counter stepped into the back and came back with Miah’s duffle bag filled to the brim with spray paint cans. " Just ask for your duffle bag to be filled it's cheaper."

Miah nodded and took a buck off the counter thanking her, walking out of the place and down the street into a smaller ally and climbed a ladder to the 3rd story into an old run-down apartment.

Max jumped in and onto the room and closed the window locking it.

The TV was still frozen on the static, making the room look hazy and even more run down than it was original.

Max stepped over and sat on the couch looking at the letters and cards scattered across the table. " Gambling again ey Miah?"

Miah sat down next to her picking up the 7 of hearts. " Nope, it's just people wanting me to make bets on other people."

Max laughed laying back a bit. " That's hilarious." Miah nodded and patted her leg. " They were also wanting to add you in since how well you ca-."

Max stopped him suddenly with a sharp tone in her voice as she sat up.

" I'm not gonna be having bets put on me like I'm some racehorse!" She threw her hands up, an angered and disgusted look on her face. She got up and went to her room, turning sharply and hit her leg on the shelf causing the small Cacti to fall.

Max moved to catch it and held it close being careful about the spines.

"Sorry Sheriff didn't see you there." Max's voice was much calmer now as she held the small spiny plant. The small gray pot had small paint splotches here and here and soft paint stained fingerprints around the bottom. Sheriff was something Max took pride in having, it was such a small yet easily taken care of plant.

Miah laughed softly listening to Max whisper to the little plant. " Max, why did you name the plant Sheriff ?"

Max growled softly looking back at him, a dark look in her eyes. "That's none of yer business Miah, I can name them how I wish." Miah nodded and relaxed staring at the ceiling now.

"What time is it?"

Max stayed silent, gently touching the small spines. She seemed to not hear Miah speak, she was completely out of reality, much more calm and relaxed with Sheriff in her hands.

There were small scars on her left hand from when she first found It, thinking it was fake.

Miah got up and walked to the kitchen and began boiling water and tearing open ramen packages putting them in. Max sat at the table with her head down, looking at the Cacti like she was hypnotized. A sudden knock on the door broke the silence between them all.

Max got up and unlocked the door opening it, seeing it was the punk from down the hall. He smirked at her crossing his arms. " Well, I didn't expect the Brat to answer this time, Where's Jere?"

The sky was someone you never wanted to get on the bad side of, not only that but he was bipolar and had a bit of a trigger finger when it came to fights or big bets involving huge amounts of cash. He knew Everyone, even the people he shouldn't know.

Max said nothing to him and walked back to the table and picked up Sheriff, walking to her room and closing the door locking it.

Miah peeked around the corner at the punk. " Oh, hey Sky, what did I tell you about being rude to Max?"

Sky shrugged and slammed the door closed and walked over to Miah, gently grabbing his chin. "Sorry Jere, guess I'm still pissed about how she, oh I dunno, TRASHED MY BIKE WITH HER LOUISVILLE SLUGGER!?"

Miah flinched by his sudden lash of anger and by how reckless his voice sounded.

Miah sighed and looked away from Sky, feeling the heat radiating off him.

" I told you, once I get the money I can pay for it." Sky grabbed Miah’s shoulders and spoke in a low, yet very demanding voice. " You aren't paying for shit, I want Maxine to p-" He was interrupted by a loud angered cry from down the hall of the torn up apartment.

" That's not my name you bastard!"

Sky's laughed darkly and began to step out from the kitchen towards Max's room. "What are you gonna do Brat, try and hit me with your new board?" Sky smirked leaning on her door mocking her with his presence. "Or are you just mad I know your daddy?"

There was silence, no response came from Max, only the soft sound of empty paint cans rolling on the floor could be heard as she walked towards the door. Sky did a gentle knock on the door peeking through the small crack in the door. " I asked you a question you lil bitch, I suggest answer or give me the money for my Motorcycle." She didn't say a word, but the gentle noise of the door unlocking could easily be heard.

"Oh, you finally became a man, haven't ya you lil bastard?" The sky turned the knob and opened the door. He recoiled seeing Max jump at him hitting him in the stomach with her skateboard. He got up from the floor and grabbed her arm punching her hard in the stomach and face making her fall to her knees. Sky laughed darkly staring down at her.

She looked broken as she was hunched over, holding herself. "Have you had enough yet Freak?!"

Miah ran out from the kitchen and pushed Sky back from Max, but ended up getting knocked back into the couch. "Back off Jeremiah, Let little Maxine Â fight her own battles for once." He stayed where he was, like a tyrant above innocent subjects. Truly, something you would wish to knock down.

Max slowly stood up keeping her eyes down, she didn't want him to do this to Her anymore, even after the shit she's done, she already regrets everything, why have more regrets?

She rushed at him, dodging his hit and punched him in his throat. He doubled back a bit and fell onto his back, once he sat up Max jumped at him, holding a can of black spray paint in hands. An angered hungry look in her eyes, a look of vengeance. "If you wanna act blind, then why don't you be blind huh you jackass !? " she grabbed him by the hair and proceeded to spray him in the eyes with the paint, clinging to his scalp as Miah tried to pull her off.

Once Max released Sky, he scrambled to the bathroom and began to clean his eyes out with as much water as he could get into them. Miah held Max close, knowing Sky would beat her, or even worse.

Miah got up and went to check on Sky, just in case he might need to go to the hospital. The sky was sitting on the side of the tub, a damp towel over his eyes. " You better be happy I'm blind because if she had tried something else with the paint she would have gotten her ass beat."

Miah sighed pulling out his Phone. " I'll call Tel, she'll drive ya home."

Sky groaned softly and placed his hand on the side of the tub. " If you Tell her Max attacked me, she might get... You know who." Sky's voice trailed off as he moved the towel away to reveal it to be covered in sticky black spray paint. Miah hot up to get a few eye drops, leaning Sky’s head back, gently dropping the liquid in his eyes.

Once Tel arrived she brought Sky to her house, and once Max made sure he was out of the apartment, she went to the kitchen, getting the Ramen Miah made. She didn't say another word... She was as blank as most new buildings that were built in the large city, barely any color to them, barely any art. Miah took notice to her quietness, he knew she felt horrible about the things she would do. Once Max was finished Miah came into the living room and set a few paint cans and bandanas on the table with a Silver Ace of Hearts, a rare card in the deck's people sell in the Sheria district, but one filled with luck and fortune.

Max walked in and set Sheriff on the shelf, giving him a bit of water, something that'll last them for weeks. She turned and seen Miah dressed in a gray tank top and his normal black jeans. His hair was pulled back and he wore worn down combat boots. "Get dressed, we're going downtown." Max stared at him a moment, confused about what he meant. "Miah, it's almost 11:30, why are we going downtown.... unless..." Max's eyes widened and she ran to her room taking barely a moment to get into fresher clothes and got her skeleton mouth guard.

She walked out wearing a black tank top, black jean shorts, fishnet leggings/ gloves, and a matching pair of Miah's combat boots. Max grabbed her backpack and emptied it of all the school's assigned books and folders, replacing them with paint cans and paint can caps. Miah smiled a bit picking up his bag and bandana, going out the fire escape window with her, making sure to grab both of their boards.

They headed down the quiet and bright streets of the cities, making sure to dodge the sights of any 'Boys in Blue'. Miah brought Max into a new ally in between freshly built buildings. There was a small crowd of people, dressed nearly the same, all with a mouth and nose guard. They all chose a spot and brought out the cans, spraying designs of war, peace famine, and culture.

Max held her paint can, hoping to get some mind of idea. But there was nothing but blankness in her mind. She looked over to Miah who was spray painting something to do with a love design, kids gathered around him to watch his work. Max sighed, she had no idea of what to do. She looked back to the wall and felt a shiver go down her spine as she thought of something simple yet twisted. She began to do her work, listening to people as they murmured about her, and her work.

"Oh lord, is this brat really so twisted to do such things?" A younger couple said not too far From her and Miah. Kids laughed a bit pointing at her. "You're new at this kind of thing aren't' cha Punk?"

Max shot them dirty, blood-chilling looks as she worked. Finally, once it was close to sunrise, she finished. It was a tree, growing straight through a broken, decaying heart. To her, it symbolized a new beginning, to others, they took it as something much darker and evil.

Miah stepped over, looking at her art, a smile on his Shadowed face. Max leaned into him, feeling broken as others began to make more comments towards her art. She hid her face, feeling small in a growing crowd

Suddenly, silence swept through everyone as a path was made. People hurried to stand near their art and show off somehow.

Max stood up straight, removing her face mask as a tall, merciless and serious man stepped up to the young couple. He studied their art, looked to them, and moved on. They looked defeated and angry at each other, much like they lost everything to a bet they had made.

He walked around and stopped suddenly at Max, his eyes wandered like a freshly inked quill against paper. "How long have you done your work?" His voice was serious, yet so welcoming. Max looked up towards him, curiosity lingering in her eyes. "I've done this ever since I turned 12 sir."

The man nodded, seeming so intrigued by what she's done. He pulled out a card and handed it to her, a slick Cheshire cat-like smile on his face. Max took the card and stared at it.

A business card, plain yet beautiful. It had his number, email, and address. All were temporary and hidden by many organizations. Once he stepped away Miah rushed over and picked Max up in a screaming happy hug. "Oh my god you met him, You actually met him?!" Max squealed in confusion and shock.

"Miah the Hell are you talking about damn it?!" He whispered softly and took the card and put it in Max's Wallet. "That was King, the famous Graffiti artist of the town, He likes what you do Max."

Max laughed a bit and walked past him, putting her wallet back in her pocket. "Whatever you say, Miah, C'mon, let's go home before any Blues get here." Miah sighed and followed after her.

Few yards away someone watched them, mumbling softly into a walkie-talkie. "Boss, Targets Spotted, next order?"

#book #graffiti #graffiti king #art #short story #chapter one

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