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Submitted by: calicoroger On: April 13th, 2005
File Size: 429 KB
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Artist's Comment:
The rain pounded hard on the roof of the old El Dorado as Kyle waited outside the movie theatre. He'd been watching the guy for two months, and every Wednesday night like clockwork, this creep would go in there to watch the latest tit-fuck fest, and probably whack off on the sticky seats. This guy was beyond scum; he was a fucking creep.
They always seemed to spend more time doing their business the nights Kyle chose. The mark had been in the theatre for two hours now, and Kyle's patients were beginning to decintegrate. There was only so many times a man could clean under his fingernails with his pocket knife, and he would swear that he'd already heard the same Duran Duran song on the radio three times now.
BEEP! BEEP!
His watch, rather impatiently, rang out the fact that it was 1.45a. Kyle's self-agreed time at which the waiting would stop. He kicked off the radio with his heel as he lit a Pall Mall. The thick smoke hung easily in the damp air. Kyle threw the heavy Detroit steel door open as he snatched his Baretta from the passenger seat. He took one last look toward the enterence to the theater, praying that he didn't have to go into that jhiz bucket. With little effort, he slid out of the Cadillac, slamming the massive door behind him. For a few moments, he stood in the middle of the street, sucking on the cigarette pressed between his lips. The rain made the back of his neck itch, so he tossed his cigarette into the gutter, and strode inside.
The inside of the theatre was worse than the itchy rain outside. The air stank of various bodily fluids, and the dim lightling gave him a headache. The orgasmic screeching of the starlet echoed through the brick halls, the reverb only making this job worse than any other hit he'd performed.
"What the fuck?"
Kyle turned to the booming voice behind him, only to find himself staring face to chest with a man too large to be human. There was just a breif hesitation before the giant swung his fist at Kyle's head. Kyle quickly ducked out of the way and ran toward the nearest door. It was. by some stroke of dumb luck, unlocked. He didn't think twice about stepping through the threshold, but after the first step, he suddenly wished he hadn't.
It wasn't so much hitting the ground that hurt, but more of the unpleasant trip down the stairs. About half-way through the journey downstairs, his pistol fired, sending pieces of red brick flying through the small corridor. Once he found the bottom of the stairs, he looked up at the bright hole he had opened, and quickly realized that it was not a good idea to stay where he was. The Giant began to stomp down the stairs after him. Kyle squeezed off two rounds toward the Giant as he scrambled to his feet. As he ran down the narrow corridor, he began to realize that the theatre was part of the old underground. He'd been down here before, and knew that an exit to the street would be near.
The Giant, though unarmed, was gaining quickly, and had began throwing pieces of broken brick at the assassin. Small pieces of terra cotta whizzed past Kyle's head, shattering on the wall in front of him. Blindly, Kyle squeezed off one more round behind him, not bothering to look back to make sure he'd hit anything of great importantance.
In his dizzy terror, Kyle ran past one of the first steel ladders that lined the wall. He found him self back tracking a few steps, only to find that the Giant was only feet behind him. Kyle jumped up onto the cold steel ladder. Trying to climb with only one free hand was not something that was too easily accomplished, as he soon discovered. He turned back to the Giant, who was now just underneath him, and squeezed off the rest of his clip. One of the shots landed in the Giant's shoulder, and two more caught his stomach. Kyle hucked the Baretta down, the butt hitting the Giant in the forhead, and scrambled up the ladder. At the top of the ladder, Kyle found a small manhole. With some difficulty, he managed to push it onto the street. He poked his head through the manhole, desperately trying to figure out where the hell he was. All he could see around him was trash bags and paint peeling off of cement walls. Beneath him, the Giant had begun to try to follow him up the ladder. Kyle no longer cared where he was. He jumped out into the alley, kicking the manhole cover back into its place. Somewhere behind him, a large truch blaired its horn as it barrelled down the road. He ran down the alley way, finding himself back on the same street as the theatre. Just a few meters to his left, his old Cadillac in all its beaten up glory, sat outide the front doors of the theatre. It was just a short sprint to the El Dorado, but by the time Kyle reached it, he felt as though his heart was about to explode. As he unlocked the door, he snatched the meanacing little pink ticket that some asshat cop stuck on his windshield.
"Fuck this," he said to himself as he slid into the safety of his land-boat. "I'm doing this the old fashioned way. I'm sticking a bomb on his fucking starter next week."
This was a lot of fun to do. The initial outline was done with a Bic ballpoint pen. Shading was done with the bic, and the colouring was done with red ink smeared around with a brush. Outlined with brush in India Ink.
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