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Post by PJ on Oct 13, 2005 8:58:19 GMT -5
It begins.
Kill Dante - Volume Two
“Are you telling me that she cut her way through eighty-eight bodyguards before she got to Celinra?” PJ sat on the porch of his trailer, which was situated somewhere in the outback of Australia. He looked dusty, but then again, so did everything else. Dante, who was standing before him, shook his head. “No. There wasn’t really eighty-eight of them, they just called themselves the Crazy 88.” PJ raised an eyebrow. “Why?” He asked, taking a sip from his glass. “I don’t know. They probably thought it sounded “cool”. Nevertheless, there where roughly three dozen of them, and they all fell under her Sam-Sword.”
“She got herself a Sam-Sword?” PJ asked his brother, impressed. Dante nodded. “She has one.” “He made her one? Didn’t he swear a blood oath never to make another sword?” Dante smiled sadly. “It would appear he has broken it.” He replied cooly, somehow impervious to the hot Australian sun. “Sam sure knows how to hold a grudge, eh? Or is it just that you tend to bring that out in people?”
Dante ignored the jibe. “I know this is a ridiculous question before I ask, but you haven’t kept up with your swordplay, have you?” PJ smiled and shook his head. “I pawned my Sam-Sword years ago.” Dante grimaced. “You pawned a Sam Boddy sword?” He asked, wincing. PJ nodded, taking another swig of the dark liquid in his glass. “It was priceless!” Dante said, losing his composure for a moment. PJ gave a short laugh. “Not around here. Down here, I got myself 250 dollars for it.”
“Since it was a gift from me, why didn’t you offer me the chance to buy it back?” “Because that would have required me to acknowledge your existence. I don’t need money that bad. But what does it matter? I’m a bouncer at a bar, Dante. If she wants to fight me, all she has to do is come down to the club, start some salsa, and we’ll fight.” “So how’s your fencing club going?” PJ leaned back and gazed into the distance. “It’s ok. Not many people wanna fence out here, but it’s ok…” Dante sighed. “PJ, you need to listen to me.” He said, concern creeping into his voice. “I know we haven’t spoken for quite some time, and the last time we spoke wasn’t the most pleasant. But you need to get over being mad at me, and start becoming afraid of her. Because she is coming, and unless you accept my assistance, I have no doubt she will succeed.”
PJ sighed. He and Dante had had their differences, lots of them, but they were still brothers. “I appreciate the concern, but I can’t dodge guilt. And I don’t want to, either. I’m not afraid of death; I’ve lived a good life. I used to be rich, but now I’m happy. She can come if she wants.” He paused, and had a thoughtful look on his face. “That woman deserves her revenge. And we deserve to die.” He chuckled. “But then again, so does she. So I guess we’ll just see now, won’t we? It’s in god’s hands, now. I’ll do my best to kill her, and to stay alive, just as she will. No more, and no less.” “And that is your final answer?” Dante asked, contempt filling his voice. It hadn’t been easy to show kindness to anyone, in particular PJ, and now this kindness was being flatly refused. “Goodbye, PJ. I have no doubt that I will never see you again.” He climbed into his car, and drove away.
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Antenora
Detriment Deleter
Fiendish Philologist
Put down that harpoon gun, in the name of these wonderful birds!
Posts: 15,891
Likes: 113
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Post by Antenora on Oct 13, 2005 9:39:37 GMT -5
Good prologue, and I'm looking forward to the story.
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Post by Dante on Oct 13, 2005 11:44:10 GMT -5
I agree. It is a cool prologue. It's very well-written.
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Post by champ103 on Oct 13, 2005 11:50:41 GMT -5
Very good, as usual-I like this scene in the film.
And one little piece of constructive critisism: When someone new is speaking, start a new line/paragraph. Otherwise it's a little tricky to follow.
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Post by jemima on Oct 13, 2005 15:39:25 GMT -5
*seconds Dupin*
Very good beginning, though. This is the first appearence of Dante we've seen.
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Post by SF on Oct 13, 2005 20:32:39 GMT -5
I also agree with Dupin, it was a bit confusing.
Good prologue though, I was getting anxious to see what was going to happen next.
(I haven't seen the films so this is all new to me)
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Post by PJ on Oct 15, 2005 1:33:09 GMT -5
Next bit up. This is one of my favorite chapters, because I kick such major ass in it. Sorry for the swearing, but it has to be done. Assassins aren't the most posh people on the earth, you know.
Chapter Five: The Lonely Grave of George Dupin
PJ walked into the bar. The bartender, an individual known only as “Mr. Who” shook his head as he saw the bouncer. “20 minutes late again, PJ. Can’t you tell time?” PJ shrugged. “That PJ?” Someone yelled from a backroom. “Yeah!” Mr. Who yelled back. “Tell him to get his potato ing ass right in here now!” The voice yelled back. PJ sighed, and entered the backroom.
Robert, the manager sat there, with a look of pure contempt on his face. “I dunno what carwash you worked at before you came here that allowed you to stroll in 20 minutes late for work, but it wasn’t here, and I own a carwash!” PJ sighed again. “There’s no-one here, boss.” PJ finally said. “So?” Robert asked, leaning back in his char. “Well, I’m the bouncer, right? But there’s no-one for me to bounce!” Robert put his head in his hands. “So…you’re not doing the job – that I’m paying you to do - ….because you don’t have a job to do? Is that what you’re saying? Are you trying to convince me that you’re about as useful as an asshole here?” He indicated his elbow.
“Well, PJ, I think you just potato ing convinced me.” He turned to his desk, and picked up a marker pen. “Let’s go to the calendar. It’s calendar time. Calendar time for PJ.” He pointed to a square on the calendar. “You workin’ tomorrow?” PJ nodded. “No you’re not,” Robert sneered, “You don’t even know when you’re potato ing working. Here, you’re working Thursday.” He scribbled over PJ’s name on Thursday. “Not anymore.” “Workin’ Friday?” PJ nodded. “Not anymore.” Robert scribbled it out. “Saturday?” PJ gave a sort of half-shrug half nod. “There’s your name.” He scribbled it away. “There used to be your name.” He scribbled out PJ’s name on the next day, too. “There used to be your name.” He repeated, before scribbling all over the calendar.
“potato ing with your cash is the only thing you kids seem to understand!” Robert yelled, throwing his pen back to the desk. “Now I want you to go home and don’t come back until I call you. I CALL YOU. Understand?” PJ nodded, and turned to leave. Inside, he was furious. He hated Robert. He could easily kill him, and everyone in this establishment. He had a hidden stash of money and a few passports for emergencies.
But that wasn’t PJ’s way. After he had quit Dante’s Infernos, he had vowed never to kill anyone again, unless they were the aggressors. If he was mugged, he killed. If someone tried to harm him, he killed. It was, he figured, God’s way of getting rid of thugs. So he wouldn’t kill Robert. Or anyone else, unless they had it coming. “Before you leave, go to Rocket. She’s got a job for you.” Robert said, and PJ turned back.
Robert’s eyes fixed onto PJ’s mass of curly hair. “That hair…that potato ing hair. How many times have I told you to cut it? It’s potato ing clown hair! You don’t have that kind of hair in here, do you understand? Go and cut it!” PJ left. One of the dancer girls approached him. “The toilet’s at it again. There’s salsaty water all over the floor. Go clean it up.” PJ sighed. “Ok,” He paused, and smiled, before adding mockingly: “Rocket.”
By the time he got back, it was dark. He lived way out in the back in a trailer, without another soul in sight for miles. He liked it this way. It was peaceful and quiet. He lived in a sort of canyon, with great rocky mounds on all sides. The view was great. He parked his beat up car and climbed out. He stopped for a moment, and looked around. Then he turned towards his caravan, unlocked the door, and stepped in. He slammed the door behind him, and fetched a drink from the fridge. Then he sat in an old rocking chair right in front of the door and turned on the music, and just listened.
Unbeknownst to the owner of the caravan, Antenora crouched beneath it, dressed entirely in black, her Sam-Sword in her hand. As soon as she slammed the door shut, she quietly crawled out from under the house, and slowly pulled her blade from out of its scabbard. Inside, PJ suddenly turned off the music, and approached the window, and looked out. Heart beating wildly, Antenora pressed herself against the caravan wall almost underneath the window. PJ just had to look down….
The former assassin turned, and went back to his rocking chair, and started the music again. The Bride crept up to the front door, and looked under it. PJ was sitting right behind the front door. She tensed, and then kicked the door open, and rushed in with her sword drawn….to find PJ sitting in his chair, holding a shotgun.
It fired, and the blast knocked her right back out of the caravan, and onto the dirt outside, where she lay, gasping for breath, not enough air in her lungs to even allow her to scream in pain. Her chest was on fire, a pain of the likes she had never felt before. PJ calmly stepped out of caravan, and took the smoking bullet cases out from his gun. “That knocked you down some, didn’t it?” He said, strolling towards her. “You’re not dead. It was only a double dose of rock-salt. But I can’t even begin to imagine how much that salsa must sting.” He kicked her sword away, and squatted down beside her, and removed two knives from her personage, and threw them into the dirt.
PJ then pulled a syringe from his pocket, and, almost mercifully, the man formerly known as “Virgil” injected the liquid into her leg. The powerful drug knocked Antenora out a few seconds later. PJ then pulled a mobile phone and dialled a number. “Dante?” Asked the female voice. “Wrong brother, ye hateful magee.” PJ replied, and bent down to pick up Antenora’s sword. “PJ?” Swans asked, incredulously. “Bingo.” “And to what do I owe this dubious pleasure?” She asked, rolling her eyes. “I just caught the girl that’s never before been caught.”
“Is she dead?” Swans asked quickly. “Not yet. But I sure could, if I wanted to. She’s so gentle right now, I could perform her coup de grace with a rock.” “What are you waiting for? Haven’t got the balls?” PJ gave a short laugh. “No. It’s just…I haven’t killed anyone in a long time. And when I did, it was more of a religious thing.” “Relgious?” Swans snorted. “Don’t ask. But this…this is business. Back when I did kill people, I got paid for it. This…this just doesn’t seem right. Turning amateur at this time of life.” He chuckled.
“Anyway, guess what I’m holding in my hand right now?” He paused, and then answered “A brand spanking new Sam-Sword. And I have to tell you, Swans, that’s what I call sharp.” “How much?” She rudely demanded a second later. “Oh, that’s hard to say, really.” PJ said, enjoying the moment. “Seeing as it’s priceless and all.” “I’ll give you one hundred thousand dollars for it.” PJ chuckled again. “I’m sure you would. But I’d rather have one million.” “One million? I thought you gave up on money ages ago.” PJ smiled. “Well, it doesn’t hurt to have a little extra, you know, and I’d like to quit my job, see. Retire early.”
“Why then are you selling it to me, when Dante would buy it off you for a higher price?” “If I’m going to live off someone’s money, I’d rather it be yours.” “What are the terms?” “You buy a ticket to Australia, and you come down here, with a million dollars in folded cash, and I give you the greatest sword ever made by man. How’s that sound?” “That sounds like we got a deal. One condition, though.”
“What’s that?” PJ asked. “She must suffer to her last breath.” “That, Swans, my darling, I can pretty damn well guarantee.” “Then I’ll see you in the morning, millionaire.” She hung up. PJ smiled, and glanced down at the Bride. “We got some work to do.” He said, heading towards his car.
Antenora woke up some time later. Her eyes were closed, and she listened. She could hear a strange thudding noise, followed by a sort of swish. Then, footsteps. She opened her eyes, and PJ loomed above her. “Wakey wakey,” He said, smiling. “Eggs and bakey.” He undid the latch for his truck, grabbed her, and pulled her off. She landed hard on the floor. They were, Antenora saw, in a graveyard. A cold feeling began to settle in her stomach when she saw an open grave, in which someone was shovelling dirt out. The gravestone belonged to a certain “George Dupin”.
PJ leant down over the Bride. “Now, you may be wondering how come I haven’t already killed you.” Antenora remained silent, the fury clear on her face. “Me and Dante may have had our differences, but he is still my brother. No matter how much we hate each other, I still care for him.” He paused, staring at the Bride. “Consider this penance for all the people you’ve killed in your life. But mostly, consider this penance for breaking my brother’s heart.” PJ stood, just as the gravedigger shouted “I’m done!” She then threw the shovel out, climbed up the small ladder she had taken down, and stepped out of the grave, taking the ladder with her.
Jemima the gravedigger approached Antenora and whistled. “She’s pretty.” She said, staring at the bloody and dirty Antenora. She leaned closer, and said “Wow, look at her eyes. She’s furious. What did you do to her, PJ?” PJ just smiled. “Or maybe she’s angry about what you’re going to do. You grab her head, I’ll take her legs.” Jemima leant down and grabbed the Bride by her legs, and PJ grabbed her by her arms. Antenora kicked and struggled, and PJ instantly pinned her down, and withdrew something from his jacket. It was a can of mace.
“See this?” PJ muttered in a deadly tone, pointing the nozzle straight at Antenora’s eye. She quietened down. “This is a can of pepper-spray.” He shook it up, and sprayed a little into the air. “Now, you’re going under the ground tonight. And,” he withdrew a torch from his jacket, “I was gonna bury you with this. But if you’re going to give me trouble, I am going to spray this entire potato ing can of mace into your eyes, and scorch them from their sockets. And then you’ll be blind, and burning, and buried alive. So what’s it gonna be?” PJ held the torch in one hand, and the can of mace in the other.
Antenora whimpered slightly, and nodded towards the torch. “Good.” PJ said. “You may be stupid, but you aren’t bloody stupid.” Then he grabbed her arms, and Jemima grabbed her legs, and she was lifted into a wooden coffin. Antenora couldn’t help but moan quietly. PJ grabbed the lid of the coffin, and stared deeply into Antenora’s eyes. “Goodbye, Antenora.” He said, and his eyes looked sad. Then he put the lid down onto the coffin, and began hammering the nails in.
As the tiny rays of light that crept in where slowly dimmed with each new nail, Antenora began to sob. When the last nail was hammered in, she was crying quietly. Everything was dark. There was silence for a moment, and then she felt PJ and Jemima dragging the coffin towards the hole. Antenora beat pathetically on the coffin, the drug still subduing her. Then the coffin was dropped into the hole, and she hit the back of her head hard.
Then, for a moment, everything was silent. Antenora was breathing was ragged, and her mind had given in to mindless fear. Then the first shower of dirt hit the coffin like an avalanche, and Antenora screamed. Another shower, and another, and Antenora beat fruitlessly on the wood around her, screaming and sobbing. Then, more silence. A car starting, and driving away. Then everything went completely, and utterly quiet. She was buried alive. She was dead.
In the depth of her fear, Antenora’s mind found refuge in the past, and memories poured into her…
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Post by Dante on Oct 15, 2005 2:27:18 GMT -5
Very tense, PJ. I look forward to the next chapter.
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Post by PJ on Oct 15, 2005 3:27:45 GMT -5
Thanks, Dante. I did the talking thing, is that how you meant it, Dupin?
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Antenora
Detriment Deleter
Fiendish Philologist
Put down that harpoon gun, in the name of these wonderful birds!
Posts: 15,891
Likes: 113
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Post by Antenora on Oct 15, 2005 6:22:24 GMT -5
Great chapter. Very tense and exciting.
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Post by champ103 on Oct 15, 2005 6:34:11 GMT -5
Yeah, that's what I meant, PJ. It IS an improvent AND THIS CHAPTER ROCKED: -This part of the film is like my favourite! -The chapter title
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Post by PJ on Oct 15, 2005 6:45:11 GMT -5
I LOVE the boss scene with Budd in the bar. And the rest of the scene is pure brilliance, too...
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Post by SF on Oct 15, 2005 16:01:43 GMT -5
Wow, nice chapter PJ. Just the thought of a whole can of pepper spray makes my eyes burn.
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