Grit 1

‘Smack him in the fucking head — go on, dumb motherfucker won’t learn until he has a brain haemorrhage under his belt.’

‘Slight, this is the stupidest fucking job I have ever been on and you are the main fucking reason for that. How are we supposed to get money out of this bozo if he is in intensive care with a skull fracture?’

‘Look, Grit, you ain’t gonna get the fucking money one way or the other so you might as well do some fucking damage.’

Before he knew what he was doing he had a six inch blade protruding from the small man’s eyeball and Slight was trying to choke the life out of him.

‘You fucking arsehole — you blinded me. What the fuck’s going on? Are you fucking insane?’

‘I s’pose so,’ said Grit, grabbing the handle of his blade and pulling it, an eyeball and the stringy mess of the optic nerve after. He yanked, it snapped, and he wiped the blade — all very expertly done considering he had hardly drawn any breath since Slight’s meaty fingers had cut off the air supply running through his windpipe. He stabbed the little bastard in the throat and pulled it out, feeling gristle and meat slide on the blade.

The target span on his heel, gun on the end of a wrist poppingly fast motion that had bullets spraying towards the dying form of Slight and the soon-to-be-dead-if-he-didn’t-get-his-arse-in-gear Grit. Grit dropped and rolled and had his weapon in his hand at least as fast as the quarry had managed, but the guy was gone — running towards his vehicle no doubt; now clued in to the fact that there was someone out trying to kill him.

Grit got up and gave chase but he knew it was useless — fuck Slight and his neanderthal bullshit. A botched job meant a besmirched reputation, no money and a pissed off client. Some pissed off clients hired someone else but some of them put that on hold until they had dealt with the failed assassin. Grit, at present, had no idea what kind of client Jake Grimoire was, but he had a feeling in his gut that he was not going to like the outcome of this one at all. Slight’s associates might also represent a major obstacle to remaining alive as well. There was likely to be one hell of a lot of blood shed. Grit was ready. Time to get back to home base and make some hard and fast decisions.

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4 Responses

  1. I like. That shit is raw man. Short story or part of a book?

  2. It’s planned to be something longer delivered in short installments of no set length. Glad you enjoyed it.

  3. Cool. I was a little confused at the beginning about who was being
    stabbed, the intended victim or Grit, it could have been clearer, but
    a nice vsiceral rush story,

  4. I disagree with Paul’s comment above; the character’s called Slight, and it says “the small man’s eyeball”, so I caught on pretty quick – and it’s definitely clear a few sentences later.
    You’ve launched us straight into the shit here…we’re gonna get to know Grit as he is in a tight corner from here on, methinks.
    Good write.

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