The nights long silence was broken by a heavy sigh as a solitary figure continued aimlessly down the cobblestone path. With hands shaking, she raised the cigarette to her crimson lips once more, sucking the last of all it had to give. It's purpose now forfilled it bacame just another piece of litter, discarded without second thought. She trembled as a feeling of emptiness swept over her thin frame, her face was drained of colour and void of warmth.
The stone staircase lay before her. She stared down into the darkness and began to weep. She remembered the first time she had walked these ancient stairs. The imagine was vivid, the detail of the event would forever be with her. That was the first time she had seen him, the first time she had seen an angel.
Shana's legs collapsed as a wave of pain struck deep within her.
"Why me?" The words caught in the back of her throat, a torrent of tears blinding her.
"Oh god why? What did I do to deserve this pain? Why did he leave me?" Words would no longer pass her lips. The pain of his loss was to great for her to bear. Shana's hand refused to calm as she drew her pistol. The moon's edge appeared from behind the clouds, it light glistened off the chrome plated 9mm.
She locked the slide back, a single round ejecting as she did. Her eyes traced it's path as it bounced down the stairs. Her thumb pushed down on the release and the slide snapped into position, making her jump. A deep sigh echoed through the nights still air as she raised the weapon. The steel felt cold against her temple, the trigger smooth against her finger. Tears continued to stream down her cheeks as her mind deliberated upon her future, or lack there off.
"God has forsaken me", was all she could think. Her angel had been with her always. There was nothing before him. Every thought that came to her had Will there beside her. Her angel had always been there for her. Will had comforted her as she lost her parents, he was there for her when everyone else had deserted her. Willaim was all that she knew, he was her world.
The jury was in and the verdict was merciful. Death was to be her release.
The hammer slowly raised and in this she found peace. A calm was finally upon.
A single gunshot rang out, the pistol fell to the ground and Shana began to tumble down the stone staircase.

((nice :smile: hope you have more for us to read :grin: ))

(( see that there, thats my bro's writting, lol Very damn nice bud, can't wait for some more

((yes definatly some nice work

((Yep very nice work man :smile: ))

(( Uh oh ... looks like someone's going to need a big band aid!!! lol .. no .. but really ... Great post man!

((::slaps Kiya round back of head:: Yeah.... bandaid that :P

((nice one bruva..... I said..... NICE ONE BRUVA!!!!!!!!!!!

~batty~

William stired in bed. The morning sun blazed like fire through the open window. Sitting up in bed he held his hand to his head. The pain of his night was to much for his brain to handle.
An audible thud was made as he foot touch the ground. A second thud, followed by a yawn, and Will was up. Looking out of the open window, William surveyed his bike which lay abandoned in the garden beds beneath his unit block.
William surveyed his apartment. It wasn't anywhere to be seen. His search was interupted by the gentle tones emmitted from his phone.
"Hello."
"Who, pray tell, did I see you leaving with last night?" A deep and friendly voice replied.
"Hahahaha. I don't remember her name. But that would explain where my pants are this morning." William couldn't help but to laugh, his night was impossible to remember.
"You're shitting me, right? Don't you be keeping all that sweetness for your self. That girl was way to much for you not to share."
"Sorry Lance, but I've gotta fly. I'll call you later, ok?
"Wait, Will! One thing, call Peter. He's been trying to get in contact with you for an age apparently. I better be getting a call from your black ass tonight."
"No worries Lance. Stay real white boy." With that Will hang up the reciever before collapsing on his bed and drifting once more to sleep.

((Sorry this is taking ages but as you all know I crashed my motorbike and don't move real quick these days. I'll keep it going and I should have it nearly summed up in the next 24hrs. Thanks :smile:

_________________
This is the millenium of aftermath, there ain't gonna be nothing after dat.

[ This Message was edited by: William Phelix on 2001-10-15 02:29 ]

((np....love reading it :grin: ...keep up the great work))

((good post half-pint, I like it, I like it a lot..... :grin:

~batty~

((Yep cool post :smile: ))

((:wipes a tear from eye:: my brother ahhh how talent he is.... lol nice work man.... I enjoyed it... keep em rolling.... try one a day.... gives me something to read in my frees :P lol j/king nice work

It wasn't until mid-afternoon that Will awoke once more. The hum of his pager vibrating filled his ears, tearing his dream assunder, returning him to reality.
***Call me!! Peter***
"Ah, shit." Will felt around for the phone which lay tangled amongst the sheets.
The line rang twice before being answered. No voice or background noise could be heard.
"Peter, it's Will."
"Where the hell have you been?" Peter was obviously perplexed.
"Pete, I had a late night last.."
"Shut up! Get dressed and get to the coffee house on Elk st. I'll be there in 15 and you better have a short black waiting for me." With that the line went dead. Something serious must have happened for Peter to be so agressive. He was always the first to stand up for Will if a job went bad.
Will jumped out of bed, the afternoon chill enveloping him. Lighting a cigarette he strolled to the bathroom, grabing an undershirt as he went. The ice cold water splashed upon his face awoke his still dreaming senses.
A quick glance at his watch confirmed he would be late for yet another meeting.
"Bugger." Looking around he saw his favorite moleskin jacket and pair of jeans. Though not completely clean they would do. Socks and boots then out the door.
Elk st was five blocks away, an easy jog at his present fitness. Rounding the last bend he could see Peter dismounting his new 4x4.
"Sorry I'm late Peter." Will controlled his breathing, regreting his wake up smoke.
"Will, take a seat." Peter motioned the young apprentice to a table off to the side. "I'm sorry I have to be the one to tell you this, but last night Sharna committed suicide."
William didn't say or do anything. An ice cold emmotionless face starred back at Peter. William then stood, lifting the table as he did. His strength was clear as he heaved the table from off the footpath into the road. A passing car collided with the stainless steel outdoor furniture. The driver somewhat upset stepped out of his BMW.
"Are you a fucking nutter of what? You gonna pay for that monkey?" The driver walked towards Will, continuing to mouth off in a thack liverpool accent.
Will looked at the man but remained silent.
"Will just calm down son." Peter then turned to the driver of the BMW, "I'm sorry for the damage, let me give you my business card and you can send me the bill for any repairs needed." With his back turned he didn't see William lifting a chair above his head. The chair glided through the air, sailing over Peter's head. An explosion of teeth and blood ensued as the driver's jaw was cleaved in two.
"Call me a fucking monkey." Will persued the chair to it's target, intent on finishing the job. Peter sprung into action, his legs like springs propelling him towards Will and in true George Greegan style, crashed tackled Will into the cement footpath.
Peter raised Will of the ground by the back of his jacket. With true authority he pushed Will towards his car, slamming himn against the door. The hazards flashed and the central locking released. The two companions jumped in and with a squeal of the tyres they were gone.

((For those of you who don't know who Geogre Greegan is, he is a Rugby Union player who made a match winning tackle against the All Blacks. Basically he won the world cup for australia in 96 (I think). Oh and yes, he is black :P

Peter could sense the pain and anguish surge through his companion. It was a rare sight to see William shead a tear, but now Will was sobbing like a new born.
The cars slid sidewards as they hit the gravel at pace. Turning 90 degrees, Peter executed a perfect parrallel park.
"Come on kid, we'll get you cleaned up. The boss needs to see you." Peter patted Will reassuringly on the shoulder. William still did not speak. Dismounting the vehicle he refused to make eye contact with either of the two heavy's standing guard at the front entrance to the converted warehouse. Instead he simply brushed past them, turning left and taking the freight lift to the 2nd floor. William had no choice but to speak now,
"Vidal sent for me." William's voice was barely above a whisper, the weight of the news taking hold of his emmotions.
"He's in his office. He asked that you go sraight in Will. I'm sorry to hear about Sharna. Is there anything you need?" The 7' shotgun wielding heavy rested a compasionate hand upon Will's shoulder.
"Thanks Sammy. I'll be cool." Will continued to the office of Vidal pausing to wipe clear his face. The door creaked open to reveal Vidal seated behind his deck with back turned. William stepped inside without speaking. Closing the door behind him, he stood patiently.
"I know that you've endured some hard times, but you have to understand that life cannot stop because of the dead. I need to know that you can put this shit behind you and that I can count on you like I have in the past. If you can't assure me that life goes on, then I can get you started with money, but from then on, we go our seperate ways. If you can however assure me that your a hard hitting dependable brother, then your place is here, by my side, earning some cash and living the good life. So what do you say?" Vidal turned in his chair, his eyes shielded from view by his jet black sunglasses.
"So do you have any jobs that require a hard hitting dependable brother today?" William knew he had no options. Go the straight and narrow? Not likely. He had walked that path once before, only to find dead-ends one after each other. In this warehouse stood all his family. No flesh or blood ties, this was a brotherhood born and reborn in the fires of battle, the speed of the chase and the celebrations of a job well done. Here William had respect, out there, he was just another punk kid.