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Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/2002814
Rated: 13+ · Draft · Crime/Gangster · #2002814
After killing the man, the gangster begins to see the man in his own home.
        The gangster then left the mansion trying not to be noticed by anyone who might be there. At one o'clock, he finally returned to his hideout and stayed there until  his boss arrived at six. His boss noticed the gangster sleeping on the floor and woke him up. The gangster then got on his knees begging his boss for forgiveness. His boss looked confused and asked him why. The gangster then told his boss about killing the man who owed them money for not having the money. His boss then sent him home.

        When the gangster finally got home later that morning, he decided to just lay down on the couch and relax. Then he heard a faint whisper in a language he could not understand. The whisper then grew louder. The gangster then realized that whoever was doing this was whispering his name. He thought that it was just his tired mind playing tricks on him. He kept his eyes closed until it sounded like the whisper was right next to him. He opened his eyes and saw this green figure, which was somewhat transparent, and noticed it was the man he killed last night. He jumped off of the couch and almost fell down a set of stairs, leading to the basement, behind the couch. He then looked over at the green figure which was just staring back at him. He blinked his eyes and the figure disappeared. He blinked again and the figure appeared right in front of him. This time he tried not to jump knowing that he would end up flying down the stairs and breaking his neck somewhere along the line.

        The figure then spoke to him. It said in a creature-like voice: "Here's the money I owed you." The gangster took the money and it looked like the figure got pissed off. The gangster jumped once more and nearly fell down again. The figure then gave him a great push and sent the gangster down the stairs to his death. The figure then began to laugh.

© Copyright 2014 Jonathan Paine (jrpaine5 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/2002814