← Back to portfolio
Published on

Occulum Abrasives


You are Snitchets Snifferly. You wake up in a dark alley with bruises all over your body. You have no idea what happened. You stand up and see a large hole in your side. You stumble into an inn to get help, and are quickly treated. You explain what happened and the officers on duty call the police. They come and take your statement. “We believe you were kidnapped and this is some sort of drug deal gone wrong. A Mr. Renly has been taken into police custody.” You think about what he said. “You believe this Renly guy is connected to my kidnappers?” “No, but he does not have an alibi for the night you were taken.” “Well then arrest him, the drugs were taken from my home, he’s definitely the one who did this.” You have a hit of some crystalline amphetamine right in front of the coppers. “I’m not telling you anything else until you give me something to take the edge off,” you say. They reluctantly agree, and you quickly head into the bathroom. Whence upon entering the bathroom of the inn, you set down your pipe and started preparing. Your heart starts to race, your skin begins to prickle and tingle, the hairs stand up on your skin and the last thing you remember is grabbing the pipe off the floor and stuffing it into your jacket pocket. Now, waking up after that happening, you could not have remembered a single detail about last night. Well, that is, you could, but it would be impossible. Not even a small amount of your memory spared. You say “Now is the perfect time to have another hit” You put the drug pipe to your mouth and suck in deeply, holding it in your lungs as you reach the highest you could. You quickly set it down on the table and wait, holding your breath and looking around. No one has noticed. Time passes and it’s late afternoon. That’s when the cops called your cellphone again. “Hello?” You answer with. “Ah, it’s me. Any trouble getting that stuff?” you hear. “No, what did you find out? Are you back?” -You ask. “Yeah, I came back and gave your statement to a detective, but he said they already have someone in custody for the kidnapping. They’ll probably put him away soon.” says the police man and you hang up the phone and get back to smoking amphetamine. You spend the rest of the night getting high, and later in the morning you go with them to Renly’s house to arrest him. Renly gave the finger to Snitchets, obviously not being well treated, for having only abducted the latter for a matter of hours. He also said something about how this was just a set up, but that he wouldn’t say anything else. Renly’s neighborhood was not such a happening place, but at least you could get a coffee in one of the shops. You get out of the car, you head to the nearest one and sit down in a corner, waiting for the cops to come. They did, and so was your report put to paper. You had told the officer that you had been held for 2 days and 3 nights in an abandoned building, before being brought to a drug dealer called Renly. Renly now taken care of, you told them, relaxes you immensely. How it could be that a single vagabond stranger thirsty for having a dose could come to this much gangster trouble. You are brought to a luxurious apartment. Renly lives in a huge place, you think. A butler appears, and while your presence is obvious, he acts like you are not there. You go on with “Whoohoo, always fun to visit swanky places.” As you walk inside, and that the air felt of a hostile vibe. You also notice that your immediate surroundings are sparse and bland, in fact the whole place seems to lack personality. “You wait here, I’ll go get Renly.” a voice calls out. The voice, belonging to a cop on the outside, goes on to fetch Mr. Renly from the car. As you stand there, you see a limo pull up, and two people get out of it. They look the part of a stereotypical rich elven couple. They approach closer. They appear to have a lot to relay. The butler waits for them to arrive, and greets them warmly. They enter the building, and the butler closes the door. All there, Snitchets, the butler, two of the cops and finally the mysterious couple all inside. That’s when you chose the moment is right, time for some heroin, and you excuse yourself to the bathroom. Once there, you have another hit. You wait, counting to three hundred. Then, you leave the bathroom and head back to the living room. The other cop gave you a suspicious look, but that was all. You get another hit, and feel your whole body turn light. You walk towards the couple, laughing as you approach. You greet with “Well, what are you waiting for, introduce yourselves!” You sit down on a sofa, and before long, you are out cold

Memories fade by, as the 
world turns into a swirling mass of colors as you descend into the land of dreams.
Three and a half hours later you get awoken by the butler, who was just about to show the rest of the guests out. You look around, and realize that you are still in Renly’s mansion. The butler stands by watching you, but doesn’t approach you in any way. You say “Alright then lads, I’m gonna take off.” The butler opens the door, and you stand up. You head out, and the butler closes the door behind you. You take one last look at the mansion, before getting into your car and driving off. This was a comfortable couch, you reminisce. Now, what could come in exchange for that place that Mr. Renly had held. You pass the turn for Green Eye’s store, and consider stopping in to see if there’s any news. Then again, you’ve been out of it for quite some time now. You see a fishy black man standing outside the store. Could this be a dealer or not? You find out after five minutes of talking that yup, it is! And he has got that speed you were starting to seriously fiend for. You slip into the back alley and test the gear. You float on thin air and with a tremendous bit of the ole pines and needles. You stare at the yellowed grass as you pass underneath the street light. Your eyes begin to pick out details, little specks of dust, the shapes of rocks under it. It was now time to see one of the homies, an Norwegian named Björgvin. He’s always got the most recent new skag, last time it was MDPV. You spot the gangly pale guy and go over to him. “Hey man, I’m looking for…” “Oh hey again! Yes, yes, you are a regular! What’s your pleasure this time?” “I’m looking for some information man, you know anything about the Norwegian gang, ‘The Black Vikings’?” He chuckles and starts spitting into his palm. “Yeah I know them, I had told you that I know them. “Shit, I don’t mean like that name man, I’m actually wanting to join.”

 He bursts into laughter. “Ha ha, yeah right! Join those guys and become a murderer! They’re known to recruit guys like you!” You glare at him. “This will go down well with a couple of shots in me.” ponders Snitchets. You ask “Tell me everything about them.” and you go on with “I have been wondering for whether or not to join them. The Black Vikings. Do they accept non-Norwegians?” “Ah, I should have known. I can tell you about them, but…” “Tell me!!” you say, a little too loudly and annoyed. He backs away from you. You demand “You better tell me now!!” Björgvin was not having any of it. “Don’t come around these parts.” “Why the hell not?” you say, getting angrier. “Cause he’s a real savage.” replies a voice from behind you. You turn around to see the gothic looking girl from earlier. You say “What’s he gonna do, he don’t own the streets!” She looks at you with disgust and walks off. “Yeah. I own the streets, bitches.” mumbles Snitch.
Over sweeps a gust of cold wind. “Yeah, yeah. That’s right, Snitch. Own the streets.” agrees Björgvin. You say “This be the neighborhood that raised us, right? Now it’s time to raise it.” Björgvin goes on to say “D’ya mean like the little kids running about?” You think about this for a second. “Well yeah, like them.” “Well, tough luck man, because those little a — have got more street smarts than you.” “No they don’t.” You rebuke “And if they had it, they were only blessed with having arrived after us, know what I’m saying?” “Yeah, you’re right.” “Thank you.” -You say and go back to looking around for trouble. “It was nothing.” -Björgvin. You see a pack of three teenagers walking down the alley. Time to do a magick trick, earn their respect. As you had so had the butterfly knives on you, you started twisting turning them every which way. In front of the teenagers. “What the hell are you doing?” asks one. You say “What, have you never twirled knives before?” “No.” “Well, do you know how easy it is to lose a weapon when you’re twirling it about?” They pause and look at each other. You exclaim “Now lemme hold a tenner, I need to fix me up some.” “Fine.” They hand over ten dollars. This was going well, or so you felt. Better just lay your trust on the knives showmanship, that’ll provide for us, you say to the daggers. A little more prying, and you get them to tell you where they’re from. They come from the county down south where the hot springs blow. Apparently, they found the place by accident, it was just one of those springs that kept on giving, but you guessed that the good people knew that if there was something like that, someone would come and try to make it their own. “So what’s it like there?” you asked. “Like… Nothing.” They say, struggling to find the words to describe it. You shout at them, not to be nervous; “What do you mean? Tell me, how is it? Just spit it out!” “It’s like… It’s like… it’s nothing.” “Come on, you can do better than that.” “It’s just water. You say “That blows up and reaches sky high?” “No.” “Well, describe it, you little fucks.” “It’s just water.” “That’s it? I could’ve sworn you were having a conversation with me.” You twist a mean lock of knife moves. Then, you are done with them, and you move on. The streets of Brunswick were quite a happening place all of a sudden. This included the streets of the area you were from. It might have been due to the media calling it “A new gang in town” “And here comes the parade of motorcycles and riders. Sailing down the avenue, and everything did lit up. The riders, with their metal spikes and tribal markings. It was quite the scene, one you didn’t want to miss. “Come on, we need to get closer.” You say, as you and a group of others walk down the avenue. The riders and their bikes had apparently been attracted by the media attention the crime scene had gotten. Then it all went absolutely mental, quickly.
The riders were dismantling guns out of a car they had just stolen, and opened fire on the crowd, which hadn’t been prepared for this. “The Black Vikings” A reporter confirms “Change shape and start a massacre.” The carnage isn’t anything you’d forget in a hurry. People were running for their lives, but only a few got away. A friend of your sister had been caught up in the shooting. You scream for him to get down, but to no avail. He’s one of the many you see get shot down, the unlucky ones who didn’t get away in time. The police arrive shortly after the chaos had ended. They put down a hefty wanted payment, and decreed the rest of the Black Vikings that were now left, would be exiled forever. You cry about your sister’s friend, and return home.
So long, sweet golden peace.

0 Comments Add a Comment?

Add a comment
You can use markdown for links, quotes, bold, italics and lists. View a guide to Markdown
This site is protected by reCAPTCHA and the Google Privacy Policy and Terms of Service apply. You will need to verify your email to approve this comment. All comments are subject to moderation.
Close