<\/p>\n\n\n\n
by Anonymous<\/p>\n\n\n\n
A crimewave <\/em>floods the city, fills it to the edges. So many, oh so many non-payers<\/em> these days. The seizure-man, or seizer<\/em>, as his lot are called, S. Kazinsky could be considered just another hardworking salary man in these dark times. He works for a powerful cryptomagnate called Moroz. Cold as winter night and without a doubt a psychopath, all of them are, or atleast should be. The cities skylines are way, way far away in the foggy untrustful distance. Reaching for a pocket there he stood, in the black. Draped in a wintery rain with the violent gray-noise that the before-folks<\/em> would\u2019ve called sky, radiating up above him. Wolves are howling and bitches growling through the night, oh mama feed them milk and make \u2018em right.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n In the nightly dark of here-and-there gas station a cigarette lights up despite the rain, despite the signs<\/em>. \u201cSorry no smoke here\u201d stood there in red, in Chinese English. None other than Kaz was on the smoke-stick\u2019s benefiting <\/em>end.<\/p>\n\n\n\n He\u2019s contemplating his next move, at least a bit. He never did this for any of his clients<\/em>, or did he? His heart\u2019s pumping with yet unknown substance, his eyes are scared, this one\u2019s the last, I swear, then it\u2019s all beaches and pi\u00f1a colada, in a blue glass as I like them<\/em>. He doubts himself, his life choices, as he always does, always will. Stuffs the payphone full of money, don\u2019t get interrupted now sonny<\/em>. He begins to sing his suddenly prepared song of danger.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cI’m giving you a night call to tell you how I feel. We’ll go all night long. I\u2019m gonna drive you through the night, down the hills. I’m gonna tell you something you don’t want to hear. I’m gonna show you where it’s dark, but have no fear. I\u2019m warning you, is all.<\/p>\n\n\n\n I\u2019m giving you a night c-call to tell you how I f-feel, I am gonna give you a cold drive down the hills, I am gonna show you where it stops<\/em>, but have no fear. You know what I mean?<\/p>\n\n\n\n Your life\u2019s in danger, don\u2019t you hear? You didn\u2019t pay your debts, y-you\u2019re unclear<\/em>.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Run, run, it ain\u2019t no more a fun.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n His voice shatters and runs away from the depth of the microphone, why am I so sheepish, what happened? This one\u2019s different, I know her, from a time before, I know her \u201cvery well\u201d fuck\u2026 Am I sad enough? Not yet\u2026 will I ever be?<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n When he called her he broke out of character. He would\u2019ve imploded on the spot if he kept that professional fa\u00e7ade on one more minute. That cowboy west frontier smirk.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Oh, now you\u2019re a real human being, and a real hero, you think she will listen to you, you grimy fuck? She doesn\u2019t remember whose cock she blew last night, let alone you, a nobody, you were just a living corpse for her then, a cock sewn to a paying stomach, nothing more, never will be. Never will be.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n Sometimes even a killer needs to let his feelings out. Not every job <\/em>turned into a massacre though, sometimes his clients <\/em>paid their debt in time, the smart contract vanished and they ended up with just a broken leg or two, jaw maybe. Was not this one\u2019s situation, she was year overdue on all her payments. That means just one thing, and you know it. She didn\u2019t pay and never will, these kids got so much on their mind\u2019s yet they don\u2019t know how this world works, it\u2019s not the 2010\u2019s you pity flesh shells.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n Did she receive the call? I doubt it. Oh she did.<\/em><\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n On the receiving end of the late-night payphone call stood now a little frightened (never did she let it be known), but nonetheless in good humor, an aristocratic trust fund kiddie daughter a druggie princess in these grimly times. Hosting her big house party in one of her daddy\u2019s villa. She was just in the middle of a networking drinking session, even these scum-people need to associate, now more than ever that the new lawmakers are going for their necks. Hide you rats<\/em>.<\/p>\n\n\n\n She didn\u2019t take his threats seriously, why should she, in her new transparent dress, her areolas blasting through, ripe as a strawberry. She was the star of this party. So sexual, so not caring, fuck the world when we have all these drugs. The world can go shit on itself while we are young. You bet, cunt.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cOh yeah? I told you, buddy, earlier already. I don\u2019t want your shitty lottery coupons or whatever the fuck you wanna sell me. Get lost.\u201d She said a little angry, misunderstood his whole message, the stupid girl.<\/p>\n\n\n\n He viewed her as somewhat beautiful still. He saw her through the payphone\u2019s digital screen, but he knew her already. Even though Kaz has his likings in the more lowbrow type of girls, whores, this one had really got to him then and did now. What a waste, he thought. Oh you just wanna be dominated by these Disney princess whores, don\u2019t ya?<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cM-mhm\u201d \u2018s all he said back. You are a clown, do you have at least so much self-reflection to realize that?<\/p>\n\n\n\n She hung up the phone violently all of a sudden and Kaz stood there in the booth speechless, drenched in cold rain, fucked up in the head. Cigarette\u2019s all wet, you destroyed even that, your last hope in this world of dimming light, you junkhead.<\/p>\n\n\n\n She wouldn\u2019t listen, don\u2019t worry, the bitch deserves it, all of them did!<\/p>\n\n\n\n She didn\u2019t recognize me from before in the phone, she didn\u2019t remember the fucking, better I forget her now, before the deed\u2019s done.<\/p>\n\n\n\n The gas station was his last stop, last wet stop before the clientess\u2019 house. Last stop before this night turned into bloody in-\u2018n-out type of situation. It\u2019s never pleasant, though he is trained and well-schooled by his way of life for these moments, he never could quite stand it. Something\u2019s always off. The rush of adrenaline, an outburst, the crying yell of bystanders, reverberating in the depths of his fractured mind. And remember, her parents are in tonight, enjoy yourself.<\/p>\n\n\n\n n the depth-shadowy grooves of the almighty blockchain there stood a written smart contract, a bounty on her head, in the event she stopped paying her dues, in the event she stopped caring about her life there stood a contract, made by her provideful landlord or someone similar of course.<\/p>\n\n\n\n To the highest bidder, though in this situation the highest bidder was the one that already knew about these contracts, the collector. Provided, Kaz knew about them, that\u2019s what kept his bosses\u2019 bills paid, the whole damn business plan. \u201cDon\u2019t pay, fade away\u201d stood there on the metaphoric plaque up top over the boss\u2019 door.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Now you are known, your info\u2019s public, on the ledger, doxed and targeted. You are common fuckmeat for the quickest gunslinger out there missy.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n He hasn\u2019t felt this much feelings in a long time, last time he felt even a speck of sentimentality was when his Vietnamese neighbours in the chinatown <\/em>were having karaoke night sesh<\/em>. He didn\u2019t actually understand the contents of the songs they sang, yet he felt the longing for their long lost home, the true color of longing in their voices melting through the doors and windows of their rented apartment just near him. He, drunk as ever wanted to join them in their cozy oriental homes, yet did not. I am not like them, I am not like nobody.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n Alas, now\u2019s not the time to remember things of the past, now\u2019s the time to act, so he hung up the phone and angrily went to his car. Started the machine, the cigarette burn still present, then he went onward. She didn\u2019t listen, neither did she then, you are nothing to her, an ashburn on her thighs and a trouble.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n Is my gun ready? Reloaded, cleaned and ready to shoot, kill. It is. He checked his old-school revolver, a killer\u2019s tool, yet even he, a relic of the past, must consider that it\u2019s pretty old. Not as automatic, the revolver has its charm. It stops a person\u2019s spark on the spot spending only one bullet, not needful of nine or fifteen like the modern toys. And makes a mess too\u2026<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n Lungs burning and hand on the steering wheel, pedal to the metal he speeded his full metal car through the gas station\u2019s exit. It\u2019s just few blocks straight, he reminded himself, must have. Moon lighted his way into the blackest of nights, his worst one yet.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Arrival.<\/p>\n\n\n\n He\u2019s there, sitting in his limited car before her daddy\u2019s pricy house. He can hear the music of course, who couldn\u2019t, it\u2019s blasting on full volume. The neighbours sure aren\u2019t happy in this night hour, but what can they do? Daddy\u2019s a big dog in the politics.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Shivering fills his legs and then stretches into the spine and hands, head. He doesn\u2019t want to go, but he must. It\u2019s his destiny, he can\u2019t fail his boss, not after the last time he saved his ass from a sketchy situation. \u201cA man without work is no man, and work such as this requires Men.\u201d… Is it time yet? Must I go?\u2026 She smelled so good.<\/p>\n\n\n\n The house vibrates, a party\u2019s on a full blast, what a shame he must kill it. The party\u2019s over kids, time to go home, sleep, tell your mother good morning and forget about this degenerate funny little adventure.<\/p>\n\n\n\n He steps out of the black car, smells of gas, straightening his leather jacket, adjusting his wet hair.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Atleast the sweat gets smeared by the rain. Trying to light one more, last, cigarette in his cracked mouth, 1\u20262\u20263\u2026 strokes, it finally lights up. Burns the lungs just as nostalgically as ever.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Nervous, checking that the gun\u2019s loaded and positioned in his holster. Touches it. I am ready, the gun speaks to him, always does, or he dreams it at least, high as a kite.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Anxious, he snorted a line-worth of coke right out of the dosing flask, maybe more. It kicked him in the balls. Started him up, prepped as a bull about to fuck the cuckold\u2019s wife. The music pulsated through his pathetic little mind, it overloaded him, took care of him. He remembered those drunk parties he attended frequently in his Highschool days; the kids were always older than him, but dad wasn\u2019t home, not ever, so he just drank and drank, kissed and fucked.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Shouldn\u2019t be hard to get inside through the security. He shivers like a wet dog, but he must remind himself he\u2019s a professional, one of the best in this damned repo business. Two meatheads standing tall as mountains on the porch, he dispatches of them quickly, good ol\u2019 jaw knockin\u2019, and then opens the front door quietly, don\u2019t alert anyone inside.<\/p>\n\n\n\n What the fuck is wrong with me? He slaps himself a few times so as to wake himself up, coke\u2019s not enough to wake from this feelingful haze. Still shivering, now like a cat awaiting tonight\u2019s fucking from the Tom.<\/p>\n\n\n\n She\u2019s just another non-paying cunt, let\u2019s get this over with, break both her legs to bone mash and shoot her fucking head off you piece of shit. He thought about the effects of the uppers he was on the last few days, or was it love just now?<\/p>\n\n\n\n He stood before long stairs, under chandelier, a colonial one; what a nice taste she has, or her dad pays her to have. He went slowly through a long hallway, lined by pictures, mostly the old masters, she\u2019s perfect, daddy pays her to be.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Lead by voices and chattering, clinging of glasses and champagne being poured. Palms overhead him, in palm of his hand a gun loaded to kill a bitch. Now came the time, he kicked the doors into a colossal living room where the meeting took place.<\/p>\n\n\n\n *The camera was just behind him now, zooming on the face of today\u2019s lucky lady, twenty-something-years old coquette, then it paned all around the room quickly capturing the cowardly faces of these fake people spotting his gun. After that, the cameraman rapidly moved the lens\u2019 interest on his cocked gun and on the frightened faces of two bodyguards, they almost assuredly carried a piece, her dad paid them to as the script stated. Weapons hidden under their dark almost not-blue suits, hidden away by their raw doggish faces, were good for nothing now, like his daughter is. *<\/p>\n\n\n\n Shooting, blood and infernal cries of attenders. He unloaded four rounds totally just then, all of them hit the spot, bullseye, dog\u2019s eyes. Both guards fell to the floor one with just a half of face missing, second\u2019s head was blown off whole. Brainage spilling everywhere and the tapestry is getting pretty gory, blood\u2019s ruining the carpet and Picasso is getting cummed on by the squish.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Some nice miss collapsed with her face covered in brain and her lackey puked, high ranking people these are.<\/p>\n\n\n\n *The director is satisfied with this shot, he loves it, the director of lives. The director living in his fucked up doped mind. The shooter of these exquisite cinematographically perfect pictures. No need for retakes, let\u2019s roll.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Camera, action. Fuck you EMILY (fucking interns), SHUT UP ALREADY AND GET ON YOUR MARK\u2026<\/p>\n\n\n\n Camera, action.: *<\/p>\n\n\n\n The music got his hands steady, trembling, steady again. It made him happy, don\u2019t wanna be happy, he\u2019s down, up, now down again, his eyes are all colors. What to do, what to do? The killer\u2019s instinct is not there when he spots her.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n His powerful six shooter just clicked after turning. He aimed it at her, aim is unsteady. Still got enough bullets to devastate this pretty daddy\u2019s princess to absolute shit creek, let daddy watch, call him.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n Gasps for air and boots running panicked around the wooden floor, but not her, she stood there, calm like a cat. What the fuck is happening?<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n He was used to worse situations, bloodier ones with more brutal and dismembered corpses, yet this one scared him like none before. He raised the weapon and aimed it at her head, just then hesitated. Just shoot her and leg it you coward!<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cOh, it\u2019s you,\u201d were her disappointing last words before he unloaded two gruesome shots point blank in her belly first piercing her ovaries. The second shot went through her hip, shattering bone, it went out in the back and landed in escaping bystander\u2019s shrimp cocktail.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n She squeaked and flew against a wooden wall with quite a force. He\u2019s sharper usually, but today the tremor got him crippled, he performed badly. She would\u2019ve been dead by now, one in the head one in the heart, clean work, blood all around.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n Fuck, fuck, fuck, botched fucking job, how in the fuck am I gonna get paid? Do you even expect to get paid after this circus? You still got two bullets left, do her in and collect her.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n Often he would just blow the head off of the target and scan their ID chip, get paid by the smart contract on the blockchain automatically, but she wasn\u2019t dead yet, means no scanning and no payment. She went down fast though, lay there on the floor bleeding from her fruitful hip and belly.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n Fainted, just barely alive, shit, still alive. Why can\u2019t these fucking people just pay their debts? He couldn\u2019t pull the trigger on her again, not when he saw her beautiful face once more. Aim it at her whorish head and blow her to pieces, nobody will ask questions, no one\u2019s here anymore.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n By now the room was empty apart from two dead dogs and a bleeding cat. He holstered his weapon coked up as he was and kneeled by her, she breathed lightly. He picked her up in his hands. Felt her soft plushy ass and proceeded for the door. Now you must certainly kill her you perv, you don\u2019t wanna get her running around with memories like this. Shut up!<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n Kaz laid her down in his car\u2019s backseat and ran around to the driver\u2019s side. He panicked. What the fuck am I doing, am I d-doing, where\u2019s the nearest h-hospital? His onboard computer set the coordinates. That\u2019s miles away, c-can\u2019t make it.<\/p>\n\n\n\n He stepped on the pedal and his veteran roared, drifted, through the hazy night followed only by a foggy moon. Hold on tight baby, soon we\u2019ll be sipping drinks on Mexico\u2019s sunny beaches. He dreamed a plan for the both of them. Did you too dream up your kid\u2019s names already you fucking faggot?<\/p>\n\n\n\n Her eyes were rolling around the innards of his smelly car. A peculiar mix of alcohol intoxication and having your fucking cunt blown off by a hollow point magnum bullet filled the atmosphere. She saw purple flashing lights of streetlamps. Wind fluffed her raven hair, blood soaked deep into the leather seats.<\/p>\n\n\n\n A quick look in the back mirror, saw her twitching on the backseat, bleeding like a stock pig, fuck. He looked deeply in her eyes, so darkly blue, as ocean, as he called them before. She seemed somewhat conscious still.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Kaz just flashed back, microsleeped to that first time he met her before, in a downtown bar, then the beastly fucking in that yellow motel, her blue eyes and sweated black hair, they fucked like animals the whole night, consumed one another. There was no love in it, that developed later, in him.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Room smelled like rotting tuna, like shit smeared on the sheets, farts in the air, cum on the wall, her dripping saliva on his unwashed balls. He never had a girl this clean, this young, rich. And she maybe had a fetish for bum\u2019s like him, for dangerous killers living paycheck to paycheck. But he liked it, it was real, somehow. The scars in his back, clawed in, felt real, salted and bleeding, just as she is now. Fuck you bitch, die already so I can get rid of your disease-ridden body. Party whore skank.<\/p>\n\n\n\n As fast as he went, nothing is faster than death when it comes to paying what you\u2019re due. He realized it too late and before he entered the city on the cross section of the rich people\u2019s district and the sub urbs he pulled a u-turn and went back, now to the side, onwards for the woods. She was dead already, her eyes were just now a noise of white filling with red, colors, fucking colors filling my car, who\u2019s gonna clean it? Did she just puke her guts out?<\/p>\n\n\n\n Light jazzy tunes played in his car, not entirely cognizing of the situation. That\u2019s a nice piece of meat you scored yourself tonight mate. Shut up.<\/p>\n\n\n\n He stopped the car, lights aimed at overgrowth. Stepped out, he reloaded his revolver first, old habit. Lighted up another cigarette, checked the watch, reading around three in the morning and then he just dumped her on the side of the road. Like a fucking roadkill, that\u2019s more like you, you fucking psycho.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Full of regret and disgust he didn\u2019t even scan her ID chip to get the reward. Let the wolves have her, she\u2019s too good for my gray ass. Another transaction in the blockchain, just another transaction going void nothing more. That\u2019s what her life\u2019s worth to the system.<\/p>\n\n\n\n He then went back to the gas-pump owned by ma and pops, called his boss: \u201cIt\u2019s done.\u201d But he withheld the info that neither of them\u2019s gonna get paid. Fuck that greedy motherfucker, fuck them all.<\/p>\n\n\n\n An apartment is cold in these nights, even colder when it\u2019s devoid of human warmth. His always was. It\u2019s never too late for a drink, or too early in his line of work. He drank three quarters of strong boozy bourbon and passed out exhausted on the hardened concrete floor. Tommorow\u2019s another day, another hustle. Day after day, drowning his human feelings for the benefit of professional effectiveness, or perhaps for the amazing ignorance of the world around him. What’s done is done, it feels so bad. What once was happy now is dead. It all returns to nothing \u2026<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" by Anonymous A crimewave floods the city, fills it to the edges. So many, oh so many non-payers these days. The seizure-man, or seizer, as his lot are called, S. Kazinsky could be considered just another hardworking salary man in these dark times. He works for a powerful cryptomagnate called Moroz. Cold as winter night … [DO NOT CLICK]<\/a><\/span><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[6,7,1],"tags":[],"class_list":{"0":"entry","1":"post","2":"publish","3":"author-admin","4":"post-258","6":"format-standard","7":"category-6","8":"category-fiction","9":"category-uncategorized"},"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/lampbylit.com\/magazine\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/258","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/lampbylit.com\/magazine\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/lampbylit.com\/magazine\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lampbylit.com\/magazine\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lampbylit.com\/magazine\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=258"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/lampbylit.com\/magazine\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/258\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":259,"href":"https:\/\/lampbylit.com\/magazine\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/258\/revisions\/259"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/lampbylit.com\/magazine\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=258"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lampbylit.com\/magazine\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=258"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lampbylit.com\/magazine\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=258"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}