City of IF

[sheik]

DANNY BOY: 1. Summer’s Sweet Reverie
Written by Sheik

(Note, there will be cursing. There will be mentions of sex, and death. And drugs.)

The boy sat in front of him, suspenders with black slacks, no shirt. He was sporting a recently shined set of wing-tips, the muff of black hair gelled to perfection. He was perfect. Compact with tight abs, a soft jaw, and a tiny mouth, a fat ass set of pearly doe eyes, and a well whipped countenance to boot. It was taking George every ounce of will power not to pounce him right there.

“Well?”

“Huh?” The fat man said shaking himself a little.

Adrian, the little one’s benefactor, crossed his arms, obviously growing impatient.
“I said, do you like what you see?”

George sniffed, his beady black eyes quivered as they raked over the elder’s body. The epitome of fitness, taut, bronzed, exuding confidence from every pore, the swagger in his step and sense of entitlement in his voice was sickening. A bastardized jock from birth, it was no wonder he’d ended up on the streets when he lost his scholarship.

“Oh I like...I like it a lot.” George grinned, dabbing away at the little flecks of saliva that hinged from his lips. “How much are you asking?” Returning his gaze to the little one, the walrus rubbed his hands together in anticipation of the fun to come.

The fuckers made him sick. Daniel Faust, the young boy who was currently being evaluated like a sack of meat, thought to himself as he clinched his fists and swore under his breath. He wanted nothing more than to go upside his brother’s head and lock himself in his room, far away from the fat fuck at his side.

But he wouldn’t. Because as much as he despised the stranger’s hand caressing his body, and the terrible way they looked at him with their condescending eyes, he feared his brother’s wrath far worse than any pathological virus. He could live with AIDS, a bullet through the dome on the other hand...

“$500 down. And an extra fifty by the hour.”

“By the hour?!” A wide eyed Danny shrieked.

Adrian’s fist was faster than his mouth, “Shut up!” He hated it when he had to get unprofessional. It ruined the whole mobster image he was trying to promote.

“No fucking dice. I can snag a twofer for a grand, the hell’d I come to you for?”

"Oh Lord." Danny should’ve just kept his mouth shut. They’d be here for hours!

Adrian wrenched up a chair, flipped it backwards, before saddling himself in.
“You really want to chance it with some filthy alien? Malnourished, unwashed, half-dead Korean fresh from the front lines or you want some quality in your dag?”

“Its all the same, stretch. I takes what I can get.”

“Bullshit! You’re forty strong and on a damn slum lord’s roster-”

“I’ll have you know I appreciate the anonymity-”

“Who you tryin’ to convince me or you?”

“Why you sonofa-”

“Look bitch. I ain’t got time for this shit, either you anty up now or we walk. And you better believe we ain’t making a second trip.”

Adrian takes Daniel’s hand and places his hand on the door, “Wait!”
The mobster grins, gets them every time.

George starts rummaging through a knapsack before shoving a rolled up mass of green into Adrian’s hands. “Take it, damn vampires. Take it and go!”

Porky was absolutely shaking with rage as he ushered Adrian out the back door. Stumbling from the unexpected force behind the act, Adrian poked his head in a final time, “Ya’ll play nice now!”

George slammed the door, grumbling curses under his breath. Danny knew how he felt, Adrian had a knack for getting under your skin. He watched the XXL pace back and forth a bit, this wasn’t going to end well. Suddenly George’s head snaps up beady black eyes locking full onto Danny’s steely grays.

“C’mere you!” The walrus snarls grabbing Danny by the shoulders and throwing him onto the coffee stained futon.

"Bullshit. The bastard fucks up and now I’ve got to pay?" Danny bit his lip as George slapped him across the face, “Little fuck. I’m gonna...” The large man proceeded to tear off the boy’s clothes, he was unnecssarily rough about it, like he had some point to prove. Master Faust just hunkered down and prepared for the coming storm trying to focus on some distant pinpoint of the horizon while the fat one forced his way in.

A lot of things went through Danny’s mind as his miniscule ninety pounds was bounced across the the room. The first being his unblinded hate for his brother. The second which was cropping up more lately now, the lot of his paraplegic mother and the ongoing war with her corporate sponsors. And, oh shit. He was speeding up. Danny growled as he bit down on the cushion and writhed for all he was worth. Super-Danny to the rescue, he thought as the mass at the end of his body convulsed and the yellow muck shot inside him.

Danny gasped, he had sworn he wouldn’t give the fucker the pleasure. “Oh...” He let out a little moan as he became one with the futon.

“Oh-ho, don’t get too comfortable little one.” George said as he slapped down another stack of bills, “We’re just gettin’ started.”

“Oh dear God, no-”

“Yes!” The man roared as he thrust with all his might. And so on, and so on...until the witching hour was nigh.

"Oh God...it hurts." Danny whispered blinking away the stinging tears from his eyes.

“Get out.”The fat man hissed, clutching his belt.

“Wha?” A bemused Danny asked, taking a step back.

The man advances, a mad glint in his eye. “GET OUT!”

Oh shit. Danny snatches his clothes, tripping over himself trying to escape the smoke filled room.

Banging on the door. he could hear muffled voices, and something that sounds like firecrackers. Fuck that, dashing across the street, slacks and suspenders bellowing in the wind Danny flies across the street ducking into a little alley. Safe from prying eyes he takes a moment to dress himself in the shadow of the roach hotel.

Pant, pant. Lungs on fire, the call-boy had managed to dodge him. Better take a breather, he was sure the fat man'd be back. Damn gorillas were persistent.

The lounge was still open, might be a good place to blend. Maybe glean a little info from some of the patrons? Realigning his fedora and suspender straps Danny headed down the linoleum hall whistling a jaunty tune.


Five minutes till, hand hovering over the brass knob, apprehension in his gut. A known despot dealing spot, his brother was God-knows-where, if things went South, which they usually did, he could end up in a gutter. Or worse, turning tricks for some Other fool. Adrian was a nutty bastard in his own right, but Danny was sure there were crazier fucks than him out there. Besides, he was still family, that had to count for something...right?

Wishful thinking, Danny thought as his right hand traced the knot along his back. This was gang land. Stomping grounds of the street bangers and cocaine dealing Yakuza, all around the fastest way to get you killed. His mother had warned him about places like these, heh. People like them. How come she never hid him away from her asinine offspring?

Daniel Faust reached into his left pocket and drew his brother's semi-automatic Jetfire Beretta. A coy smile wormed its way onto his face, despite the soreness from his lower body. They wouldn't even hear him come in...

He gives himself a little reassuring nod, Yeah. It's in the bag. Danny kicks the door, throwing his shoulder against the weakened wood, and barreling through Beretta in hand. Voices, startled guests, screams- the prebuscent pistol whips the waiter and flings him to one side.

Where? Where?! He’s sprinting now, forcing his way through the crowd, Weaver stance at the ready.

“He’s got a gun!” Three burly Yakuza types rise from their chairs, toting chunky looking machine guns.

Damn. “Oof!” Danny dives under a table as the picture of Marilyn Monroe is turned to swiss cheese. Props himself into a sloppy prone sidewinder setup and blasts away at their exposed ankles. He’s already up and scrambling to his feet before they hit the ground. Name of the game is Speed.

Accelerate. Take longer strides, loosen your grip on the nine, relax. Twitch, twitch, BANG, BANG. Push off against a nearby wall and slip into the kitchen. And there he finds himself face to face with the largest man he’d ever seen. Muscles upon muscles, a neck the size of a tree trunk, hands- my God was he even human?

“Mmf!” He’s got me! Oh Lord I’m gonna die! One hand is all he needed, just one. The bastard lifts Danny four feet, legs kick- growing weak. His right arm spasms, raising the gun. Too slow, too slow!

“Aah!” He slings Daniel across the room who lands somewhere amongst the discarded refuse and spoiled lettuce heads. “Ugh.” The banana whipped poster child feels about for his precious nine, must’ve slipped, its nowhere in sight. Rising up on jelly legs, a failed attempt to garner support from the table top.

Holy zen! Something silver zips past his head, Danny opens his eyes and cringes at the three inch piece of cutlery embedded in the dry wall. Whimpering like a kicked pup, he briefly considers running with his tail between his legs. The gorilla grins, and wrenches another makeshift projectile from the kitchen sink.

“HRNGH!” The mountain shifts, a flurry of silvery blurs flying from his person. Instinct, fear, adrenaline all these things and more force the boy’s body to react with preternatural speed. He ducks, jukes, spins, and twists before darting out the side entrance.

All technique is gone, unarmed and scared shitless, he breaks outta the kitchen like a bat outta hell. Down the hall, through the double doors, and up the winding staircase taking three at a time. Lungs burn and chest aches, body running on the tiniest sips of air, still he manages to push even harder. Move it you idiot! Danny mentally flogs, his deadened limbs.

“PSST.” Something crackles overhead, the PA system?

“Would a Mr. Daniel Faust please come to the reception area on floor one? Daniel Faust, reception area floor one.”

By the Gods! The bastards knew his name! Just how far up the echelon were those fools in black suits?!

The cat walk on floor two, it was just ahead! He could scale the fire escape and bypass the fiends altogether! All he had to do was-

“Oh Danny!” A sexy red head called poking her head from out of an adjacent room.

“HCK!” Faust froze in place, Oh Lord please don’t let it be...

He turned ever so slowly, the dread visible in his every movement. It is!

“Adrian’s looking for you downstairs,”The freckled damsel paused and tilted her head to one side, “Where you off to in such a rush?"

Panic! What should I do, what should I say?! Lie? Punch her in the face and run? No, gotta be better than that gotta, gotta...

“No need, no need! I’ll uh...be down there in a sec!”Daniel piped up, he was jogging in place, and fidgeting with his tie. Flashing an entirely too optimistic smile her way, our hounded fugitive bursts through the back door at a nigh light speed. Leaving the red-headed woman in pink rather confused, and intrigued....

Rachel walked back to her room and picked the telephone off the receiver. She hopped on the bed and punched in a few numbers.

“Hello Adrian? I think you’d better come up here.”

Pant, pant! Oh woe, oh rapture! Daniel peered over the edge of the four story drop. He could see a congregation of men in blue suits and funny hats, a fire truck with its giant hose. An ocean at his back and Adrian’s thugs approaching from below, would there ever be a time to rest?

“GIVE YOURSELF UP.” The man with the megaphone booms. Danny squints and can’t help but give a little laugh. Santa Claus had joined the party! The little old man with his fat gut, red wrinkled face, and burly mustache; This was rich! Danny hopped on the railing and waved at the taller more competent man.

“SON WE HAVE THE COMPLEX SURROUNDED. PUT DOWN THE GUN AND GIVE YOURSELF UP.”

Give up the gun? He’d lost it over twenty minutes ago! Danny raised his hands and waved them high, “I don’t have anything officer, see? I’m clean, I’m clean!” His voice echoed but was lost within the wind.

“What’s he doing?” Santa said to the Latino man.

“Hell if I know, maybe we should send someone up?”

“Are you mad? What if he has explosives?!”

The little men were whispering now, and Danny was getting quite agitated. He’d been shot at and threatened, he just wanted to go home. Why was it every time his brother came around things went so wrong?

“Danny!” He heard someone hiss.

The child reached for his pen-knife,“Oh what is it no-Adrian? What are you doing here?”

Standing no more than 50 feet away was his elder brother, .45 in hand.
“I came back back for ya, little buddy! Now get over here and give your brother a hug.” He said it with a smile on his face, but his tone- the intense energy radiating from his eyes...they spoke volumes. Danny felt the hair raise up on the back of his neck, little bumps started cropping up along his forearm. He could remember a talk he and his mother had a few months earlier...

“N-no, I think I’ll wait over here.”

“What?” Adrian growled, index finger suddenly slipping around the trigger.

“Daniel Atlas Faust. If you don’t get your ass over here...”

Danny swallowed, his heart hammered away in his chest. The dark haired raven youth suddenly felt very cold on this warm summer day. Everything felt wrong, the sand and brimming sun were no longer comforts but instruments of horror and fear. The sand underneath his feet was something akin to a grave, a sinkhole. The ice cream he’d eaten was forcing its way back up, his stomach curled into a knot.

His elder, no longer seemed the Herculean Adonis, more like the mad scientist orchestrating a disaster. And the blue Santa...miss Rachel, they were like the angry villagers forming the mob. He himself felt like Frankenstein, hated by the world. He took a step back, wide-eyed wondering if he would be able to ever make it home alive.

“Danny. You’re startin’ to piss me off. I’m going to count to three.”

Daniel was weighing his options. Leap off the scaffolding, or dive into the murky waters below? Staying here with the monster was out of the question.

“Two...”

All the things he suffered, how many times had his brother abused his condition for his own gain? He’d swindled mom out of every penny she’d ever earned. Never let Danny spend one cent of his father’s disability check, while he got to riot and go fund all sorts of parties. Danny never even got to see girls, except with Adrian and that always ended very, very badly.

“Two and three quarters...” Adrian warned, he was really going the extra mile in this.

Click-click. Adrian pulled the hammer back on his shiny revolver. He rose up to his full six feet three inches and started towards his sibling with purposeful strides.

“Danny boy...” Adrian whispered resting the cool steel against his brother’s skull, “You’re coming home little brother. Whether you like it or not. The girlies miss you.” He stroked Daniel’s baby soft skin, still rocking the terrifying grin.

One could almost see the moment as touching, if they ignored the massive .45 caliber hand cannon. Daniel found he could not, and had the whole of his attention focused on Adrian’s trigger finger. He did not speak, he did not move. Experience told him the best thing to do was to just do as he said. Nothing could save him now.

Adrian took Danny’s hand in his own and together they walked down the many steps of the cat walk and entered the hotel building below. Big brother carefully guided them through the sobbing throng of people and into the large black sedan, where miss Rachel and the “girlies” were waiting. The doors slammed and vehicle roared to life as Adrian maneuvered the six seater out of the empty lot and onto the open road.

They drove in silence for a time before the touching began. The freckled red head miss Rachel bent over kissing Danny on the neck, followed by old Gloria the neighbor lady. They stroked and rubbed Danny in all sorts of places, places he knew they shouldn’t touch. Danny wanted to scream, he looked to Adrian for help. But his brother was too busy touching Jasmine to care!

Tears rolled down little Danny eyes, it wasn’t fair. He had been so close, so close to escaping from there!

Adrian breaks off and holds out his hand,
the girlies rain bill after bill on the young man.
He doesn’t put them in his pocket, just lets them hit the floor.
Cracks a smile and locks the door.
In the backseat things get rough.

Adrian grabs the pliers, bastard thinks he’s so tough.
Ditches the belt and the girls lose their tops.
Shove Danny down and ram in the sock,

Little D thrashes and spits,
One blow from Adrian gets him to quit.
The gang sucks and licks,
Not content with homemade flicks,
Pedophiles much prefer a nine year old’s di-

[PopeAlessandrosXVIII]

That's a little....wow.....took me quite a while to wade through all that and figure out the story.... Very disjointed I must say. Perhaps you can understand if you read through it a few times from another's point of view?

It's very dark, and very sad. I hope poor Danny won't be stuck like this forever...

Good luck!

[Chinaren]

Very good stuff there S! Dark and horrid, just how I like them*.



*Stories that is.