“Stupid, fucking, idiotic, son of a bitch,” Steven muttered, as he got a worn, old baseball bat from his beaten wardrobe.
“She’s going to regret the she was born,” He chuckled going into the hallway “the day, she dared sat foot into my and Susan’s life.”
That girl was cursed, her culture was cursed. This is something that Steven has come to believe, after his beautiful wife, his soul mate and other half. His Susan was died and it was her fault, that little slut’s fault.
Her and her crazy ‘Native American’ magic, he didn’t believe the girl was Native American, no matter what her file said, he just didn’t believe it. Voodoo, or whatever it’s called.
Looking at the broken mirror, with an evil glint in his brown eyes and a smirk on his face. Steven pushed his long brown hair out of his face, raising the bat over his head; he broke the glass in the mirror.
“If I have a say in it,” He told himself, walking away from the newly broken mirror and down the steps, missing the open front door.
“And I do,” Putting the baseball bat behind his back, Steven walked into the living room, with his eyes closed. Wanting to scare the little bitch, before moving onto the ‘fun’ stuff.
“I’m back, you little…” He said, opening his eyes, looking around the room, he couldn’t see the little bitch, among the beer cans and dirt, where she belonged.
“What the hell,” He shouted, looking in the mold and grime covered kitchen, with three broken chairs on the floor. The paint was once a light yellow, but now looked like it been there for a hundred years.
Not finding it, in the kitchen he went to the hallway, and finally saw the open door “She left,” His eyes wide open “She’s going to wish, she didn’t do that.”
Walking back into the living room and pulling a case, out of the cabinet, it looked five seconds away from falling apart, in a mess of mouldy wood.
“When I get my hands on her,”
Steven fumed as he stormed out of his house, planning to get into his truck, to look for the little bitch and drag her back to the house, dead or alive.
When Steven walked a few steps on the overgrown lawn, he heard something… was that sirens? There wasn’t a fire on his street and he was sure, that most people were healthy.
That little bitch, she called the fucking cops, the pigs! Or one of her fucking friends called them! When he got his hands on that slut or fucking little friend, he was going to kill them, make them beg for mercy, but for the mean time, he had to get away from the fucking pigs!
Steven quickly went to see, how close the pigs were to his house and how much they knew. They were turning the fucking corner.
Doing what others did before him, when they saw the police coming for them and they didn’t want to go to jail, because they thought they were in the right, and could do whatever they fucking pleased to other people.
He jumped into his rusted truck, pulled out of his cracked driveway and floored it, slamming on the gas petal as hard as he could. He didn’t realize that he dropped his case, or that leaving it there was going to get him into more trouble.
He speeded down the street, pushing his old truck as fast as it could go. He could see the pigs chasing after him, telling him to pull over.
If they think I’m just going to pull over, Steven thought looking into his rear view mirror then they have another thing, fucking coming.
Steven managed to drive a couple of blocks from his house, before the police surrounded him. They were hoping that he would just pull over, but they knew that wasn’t going to happen, so they had to stop his car themselves. First they had to get him to the trap, so they can arrest the bastard that would hurt an innocent child.
Looking at the cars behind him, Steven couldn’t help but curse, if his mum was there, or alive, she could have put soap in his mouth for saying them. He didn’t like the fact that the pigs seemed to get closer and closer, he should have stolen his neighbour’s car, because he was sure, that it would go faster than this piece of crap.
“I’m not fucking going to jail,” Steven sneered, he was so focused on the pigs behind him, that he didn’t see the car that was coming in front of him, or how that car was trying to avoid him.
When Steven looked in front of him, to see the bridge and think of ways to get away from the pigs, he screamed and slammed on his brakes, hoping not to hit the car in front of him, he didn’t want to die, not without getting revenge on the little slut.
The thing he didn’t know, was that you couldn’t automatically stop, not when you’re pushing you’re car to its max speed.
A loud screech was heard throughout town, as Steven’s truck went out of control. Leaving marks on the bridge. The chase was over and everyone who was driving stopped, to watch what would happen to their follow police officer.
The police watched as the truck slammed into the cop car in front of him, before both cars went off the bridge and into the small river below, only a few inches deep.
Blood was spattered on both cars, but only one of them was alive.
The other died on impact.