Officer Payne was on duty in more ways than one. He took his orders from his sargent. And when he got to the street he worked for the strange man Named Joe. Joe looked like a bum, but he was so much more. Perhaps he was a crazy howard hughes type. any way he helped down on the docks. and he paid well too. which was a plus to an alchoholic divoriced child support paying cop.

last night Joe asked for a favor. one of the little whores ran away and he wanted her back. Humph one less slut was what Payne thought. any way Joe manipulateed a street punk to go and find the girl. The girl had appently gone to work for a strip club to get off the streets.
the officer and the Punk went to the Club. there the punk ( CHAZ ) talked his way up to see the owner. When the 2 were in the private quarters if the scumbag Officer Payne began shooting up the place while the Manager (3 finger george) went ballistic. Complaining about the dammages the owner was going to have to pay. and that these two punks were as good as dead for shooting up the club. But to avoid furter damages 3 finger told the two of the girl and that she was working at an internet porn site at an old theator..

(( i have to go.. either Chaz or Gabe take over.))

The blood slid off the cracked vinyl seat covers of the Fifth Avenue and onto it's cheap felt floor. The owner slurped loudly at the small stream of blood that leaked from his swollen and battered lips. One of the gorillas that sat on either side of him grumbled something about keeping the seats clean and laid a heavy fist onto the side of his head.

Officer Payne recoiled as the knuckles bashed against his already bruised skull. The thug went back to staring out the window, and Payne tested his handcuff's once more. They weren't budging, they were standard issue police handcuff's, his very own pair in fact.

He shot his gaze past the front seat to the windshield. In front of the car, the headlights cut a wide beam in the pitch black night. They were on a dirt road outside the city, lined by dead grass and refuge, they much was evident. The car lurched forward as they hit another pot hole causing Payne to jolt upwards, his head cracking the ceiling.

"Sit the f*ck down pig!" the large black thug to his left barked. He grabbed Payne by the back of his head and held him in place. Silently and inwardly, Payne reflected on the previous night's events:


It had started just like any other, him doing odd jobs here and there for Old Joe. Joe was a freak, always covering his face with hoods and hats. Called himself a Nosfuritu or something like that. He said he was the Dark Man's (Drain) child, but he looked too old.

So Joe had paired him off with some street punk who looked fresh off the docks. The two had made quite a scene at the strip club, Payne had unloaded several clips into the furniture just to piss the manager off. 3 Finger George. Ha!

Under pressure, George had told them where to go after that. Some internet pornography company was puttin that girl to use. Payne and the punk head down there and set things right. The girl was back, but Payne's trouble had only begun.

Payne had been working his beat the very next night, when an old Fifth Avenue had pulled up, four black men with guns grabbed him and pulled him in. The two in the backseat had delivered him the beating of his life.


Payne snapped back to reality as the car slowly pulled to a stop. The doors creaked open and a cool gush of air fell over Payne's bloodied and swelling face. Rough hands fell upon him and he found himself being wrenched from the car.

Two of the thugs dragged him out of the car and held him in front of it. The headlights nearly blinded him, as his entire body was cast black and white by the shower of light. He raised a pair of blood caked hands to block the light and caught glimpse only of the two other thugs closing the trunk and making their way around the car.

"What are you gonna do with me?" he asked. It was a stupid question, he knew the answer. He glanced around, looking desperately for a means of escape. Behind him, a roughly dug hole had been placed, the bottom drenched in blackness.

"You shouldn't have f*cked with the Seneschal's club.." one of thugs snarled, stepping forward and producing a baseball bat from behind him. The aluminum bat shone in the headlights, and Payne tried to step backwards, but the two thugs on either side tightened their grips on his arms.

"The Seneschal? What the hell is a..."

"Mr. O'Brien says hello!" the thug shouted, leaping forward and raising the bat into the air. It only took one hit to kill Officer Bryon Payne, but they would continue to beat the corpse long after he was dead.

((Payne's dead! HURRAH!

((btw, this post is to in no way say that strippers or exotic dancers are "sluts" or "whores". the viewpoint expressed was that of my NPC Officer Payne. he is a pig and met a fitting end. so in case anyone is insulted, it is merely RPing a jerk.

(( hahaha you didn't question him.
so you don't know why he did all of those terrible things. LOLLOLLLO

((I cant get over the fact that I am being called a common street punk!! *reels in shock* I AM BRUJAH!!!!!!! HEAR ME ROAR!! err... unless you throw in 4 goons with baseball bats... then I kinda whimper..... what a pansy........ :cry: ))

((aww poor punk :cry:

Get lost Maaaaaaalkiie
:Plays a funeral anthem
I am thinking about my revenge...
you and Echoe...you will pay for what you tried to do :evil: :evil: :evil: :evil: :evil: :evil: :evil: :evil: :evil: :evil: :evil: :evil: :evil: :evil: :evil: :evil: :evil: :evil:

((ooo oo? what'd you try to do? can i help? :evil: ))

((Good posts peeps :smile:

((ohh not much... shin just didnt seem to... appreciate mine and Echoes... thought patterns and decided to be not so nice to us. thats when we decided to beat him up and rip out all his fangs...

but unfourtantly thanks to his silly poncy pulling rabbits out of hats we only got one of his "clones" or soemthing.

but dont worrie there is always next time :P

and apart from killing that poor poor officer i love your posts :smile: