The FInal Dyas of Jimmy Kroe Ch.4

Copyright: I created theses guys…blah, blah, blah, don’t steal and all that other crap.

Note: I wanted to try something a little different. So for the first half of the chapter I wrote in a more amusing way, just to show a different side of Jimmy’s personality. But in the second half I plunge straight back into the dark and gritty. Also It’s kinda rushed but I’ll take my time on the next.




Chapter 4: Pasta and Bullets


Jimmy got up that morning feeling like he did every other morning, like shit. He stumbled his way to the kitchen hoping Yazzie had left him some breakfast, but knowing his friends appetite, he doubted it. As Kroe walked past the fridge he caught something out of corner of his eye, today’s date on the calendar. It was Friday, tonight Dennis was going to meet Jack Winslow to drop off his cut of the drug money. Jimmy wanted to make damn sure Lance doesn’t leave that restaurant unless it was in body bag. But first he had to be prepared. Jimmy continued walking past the fridge and over to the stove, and just as he suspected, the skillet was empty.

“Thanks a lot Yazzie.” Jimmy mumbled to himself as he walked to the bathroom, deciding to ignore his hunger. He hopped in the shower, and after he got dressed in his usual trench coat, he looked at his un -bandaged face in the mirror. He hated looking at his face, but he forced himself to do it. Why he did was beyond him. Sure he had a million excuses to do it. “So I can come to terms with it.”, or, “ So I know I’m not normal.”, or the ever popular, “So people would learn to fear me.” But deep down he wasn’t fooling himself. Deep down it wasn’t really “Beyond him.” Deep down he knew what he was doing. Deep down he knew every time he saw that freak in the mirror, it made him angry and built up his rage, and deep down he knew it was the anger that drove him.

He wanted desperately to turn away from that mirror, or at least close his eyes, but he forced himself to stare at it, to stare the monster in the face. He stared at the scars from when Lance had his goons slowly shred his face with that knife. There were scars everywhere. One scar went straight down his left eye, about five cuts criss crossed his cheeks like one of them decided to play tic tac toe, another one ran from one temple to the other and then diagonally down to his chin. And that’s just to name a few. Almost every square inch of his face was covered in scars, bruises, and unhealed cuts. He couldn’t take it any more. He picked up a nearby can of deodorant, and smashed the mirror.

He turned away from the sink, now strewn with shattered pieces of mirror. Trying to take his mind off what just happened, bottling up the rage for tonight. He pulled a first aid kit out from a drawer, and rummaged through it’s contents until he found a roll of gauze. He unrolled it and began to wrap his face up with the stuff. About a minute after he finished, the front door opened and in walked a man. He was wearing an old beat up green jacket and a pair of faded jeans. He had short reddish/orange hair, and a had a guitar slung around his shoulder. Jimmy walked out of the bathroom, face covered with bandages, and stared at the man.

“Where the fuck were you at Yazzie?”, Jimmy screamed at the man, Yazzie.

“Chill out man. I went out to pick up my guitar from the shop, then went out and got a couple beers.”

“A cou…A COUPLE BEERS! IT’S NINE O’ FUCKING CLOCK IN THE MORNING! WHAT KINDA FUCKING BAR IS OPEN NOW!”

“Jeeze, man calm down. What the hell is your problem?”, Yazzie asks, as he plops his guitar down on the couch.

“My problem is that you were supposed to get me up at four this morning so I would be ready for tonight! Now I gotta fucking rush because you snuck out last night to party, got wasted and passed out in the park. And I know that’s what happened too, we used do it all the time when we were still with the crimsons.”, Jimmy says as picks an empty duffel bag off the floor and shoves his Berettas into it.

“All right I’m sorry. Won’t happen again. So what are we doing today?”, asks Yazzie, hoping to change the subject.

“Today, I’m going finish what I started. We’re going to see Dolly, and see if you can get me some weapons.”

“Come on man! I hate asking her favors, she creeps the hell out of me.”

“Too bad. You brought this on yourself when you didn’t wake me up when I asked. Otherwise I could’ve just snuck into one of her warehouses, stole what I needed, got out, and be done like I wanted to do. But now we have to go to her in person and get on or hands and knees hoping she’ll give me some arms. And you know we’re going to have to beg. ”, replied Jimmy as he picked up Yazzie’s car keys and tossed them to him. “You drive.”

“Why do I have to come though? She’s always staring at me weird.”

“Two reasons. One: Because you failed to do one messily favor I asked of you. Two: She has a thing for you. I might have a better chance of getting her to compile if your with me.”

“What do you mean…thing?”, asks Yazzie suspiciously.

“Relax. She’s your kinda girl. You know she’s hot.”, Jimmy says while chuckling. As much as Jimmy hated to admit it, he loved to argue with his best friend, it took his mind off his current situation.

“I didn’t say she wasn’t. It’s the fact that she’s into whips and chains that scares me. I bruise easily.”

“Worry about it later. Let’s go.”

“Hang on I gotta piss.”, Yazzie says as he makes his way to the bathroom.

“Hurry up.”, Replies a very impatient Jimmy. A few moments later a very angry Yazzie stormed out of the bathroom.

“Why the fuck did you break my mirror!”

“Because you didn’t leave me any breakfast. Come on, lets get going.
-----------

Jimmy sat in the passenger seat as Yazzie drove the car towards Dolly’s hide out. Jimmy kept running over how he was going to handle tonight when Yazzie interrupted his thoughts with one of his meaningless questions.

“How come every one calls her Dolly Dagger?”, Yazzie asks, while not taking his eyes off the road.

“What?”

“I said, how come everybody calls her Dolly Dagger? Isn’t her real name Rachel, or Roth or something?”

“It’s the same name as the Jimi Hendrix song. Just A nick name she picked up on the way.”

“What’s the song?”

“You know, it goes “Dolly Dagger. Her loves so heavy, It’ll make you stagger.” That one.”

Yazzie stares at Jimmy blankly. “What?”, asks Jimmy, staring back at him.

“You suck.”, Replies Yazzie trying not to laugh.

“Yeah, well you were the curious one.”

“Come on man, I’m just trying to lighten you up. Your always so serious.”

“Well quit it. It’s not possible for me to do that any anymore. Here. Pull over here.” Says Jimmy, as he points out the window. Yazzie does as he is told and pulls over, next to a giant building that looks like a warehouse. They exit the car and walk up to giant metal door. Jimmy knocks on it three times. A metal slot slides open, and a pair of green eyes stares back at them.

“What’s your name, and what do you want?”

“My name’s Jimmy Kroe and this is my friend Yazzie. We want to see your boss.”

“Hold on.”, Says the door man as he slides the slot shut.


Jimmy and Yazzie stood outside the metal door for what must have been ten minutes, when the green eyed door man returned. He opened the door and motioned them to come in. As soon as they did the door slammed shut behind them. The doorman walked up to them. Jimmy didn’t really notice him earlier. He had spiky green hair and was wearing a shirt with the anarchy symbol. He also had a green jacket on with several holes cut in it. Two things about this guy really bothered Jimmy. One was the fact he couldn’t be older then 15. The other was that he was staring at Jimmy’s Face.

“What are you staring at, kid?”, asks as he lights a cigarette. The kid instantly snaps out of his trance and stares down at his feet.

“Not…nothing.”


“Good. Where’s Dolly?”

“She’s straight down the hall, through that door, then the last door on the left. I gotta take your weapons, though.”, The green haired kid held out his hands. Jimmy Stares at him for a split second before he Reluctantly relinquishes his gun. Yazzie followed suit.

“You get them on the way out. Better hurry, she doesn’t like to wait.”, The kid says, as he returns to his post at the door. Jimmy looks over at Yazzie who shrugs. The turn and walk down the long, narrow corridor. At the end a rusty, graffiti ridden door blocked there way. Jimmy pushed open the door.


As soon as the door was open blaring techno attacked there ears. Inside the room was a giant dance floor. Laser and strobe lights flashed along to the thumping music. The people there were either stoned, getting stoned, passed out, dancing or a combination of any of the four. It reminded Jimmy of the crack house. The scene looked almost like a regular rave if it hadn’t been for what the partiers were wearing. Every single person in the bar was wearing some kind of bondage item. Jimmy and Yazzie stuck out like a sore thumb.

“Where the fuck have you taken me, Jimmy?”, asks Yazzie while a Giant man in a gimp outfit eyes him.

“Calm down we’ll be out in a minute. Lets go find Dolly.”, replies Jimmy pushing his way through the leather clad crowd. They made there way to the door the kid told them about. They made their way inside. As soon as Jimmy entered he greeted it’s occupants.

“Hi, Dolly.”

Inside, A beautiful woman sat on a very lavish, but sinister throne that had chains that hung from horns that circled it. She herself was wearing a long leather overcoat, and knee high leather boots. Her hair was as black as coal and stopped at shoulder’s length. She stared at the two men as if they were ants. “Hello, Jimmy. Hello, Yazzie.”, she said, making sure the last part sounded as seductive as possible. “ What brings you boys to my…house of sin?”

“I’ll get right to the point. I need guns. Lot’s of guns. I know you have them.”, replies Jimmy, staring straight into the gothic crime lord’s eyes.

“And why should I help you? What will I get in return?”, she asks, not taking her eyes off Yazzie, who was getting increasingly uncomfortable. Yazzie leaned over to Jimmy, and whispered into his ear,

“Do something, man! She’s freaking me out.” Jimmy silently nodded to his friend’s plea.

“How about this. Tonight I’m going to Winslow’s Italianate. Now we both know Winslow has been trying to put a squeeze on your operation, and word around town is he’s been getting really rough with your girls. So my proposal is give me what I ask, and I’ll make sure Winslow doesn’t bother you again.”, Jimmy says with a slight smirk. Dagger looks at the men for a moment contemplating Jimmy’s offer. Finally she breaks the silence.

“Fine. But if you if you fail…I get your friend.”

“Deal.”

“What!”, Yazzie screams at Jimmy.

“Relax, man. I’ll get Winslow.”

“You better.”

Dagger turns to her body guard.

“Take them to the warehouse, let them take what they want.”

-----------

9:00 p.m. Winslow’s Italianate.

Jimmy sat in his car, which was parked outside Winslow’s restaurant, waiting for Lance. He went through his duffel bag, looking at each weapon Dolly had given. His arsenal included a swan off shotgun, a silenced 9mm, and a giant six shooter, one Jimmy didn’t know by it’s real name, but called it by it’s street name, a hand cannon. It wasn’t much but it was all he needed. He put the guns back in the bag and as he looked back out the window, It started to rain.

“Fucking great.”, He muttered as he lit a cigarette. “Where are you Lance?”


-----------

A long, black, stretch limo arrived in front of the restaurant. The back door opened, and out stepped a man in an expensive white suit and round sunglasses. Dennis Lance. As he exited his car he was greeted by a tall man in a pinstripe suit with slicked back hair and a goatee.

“Welcome back Lance! I trust you brought everything.”, the man says.

“Clam down you greedy little bastard. I got your cut of the money, Winslow.”, replied Dennis as he handed Winslow an envelope that looked ready to burst.

“Excellent. Should I show you to your usual table?”

“Yes. You, go round to the alley and keep an eye out.”, Dennis says to one of his guards. The guard nodded as his boss walked through the door.

-----------

“About fucking time.” ,Jimmy thinks to himself as a black limo pulled up to the restaurant. He unzipped the bag and pulled out his weapons. He shoved the hand cannon into his belt, slung the scattergun around his shoulder, and held onto the silenced pistol. Then he stuffed as much ammo into his pockets as he could. When he looked back up, Lance was already making his way into the building.

“Shit!”, Jimmy cursed. But then he noticed a lone guard making his way around back. Jimmy loads his gun and then proceeds after the guard. He snuck behind him, keeping a distance, trying not to alert him, not until they get further into the alley at least. Jimmy continued his stealthily approach for a few moments more, before deciding this was far enough. Jimmy quickly ran up behind the guard, and before the guard could even get a word out, emptied a slug into the mans foot. He fell to the pavement screaming and cursing. Jimmy, acting quickly, kicked his gun away.

“SHIT! AHHH, JESUS, IT HURTS!.”

“Clam down. It ain’t that bad.”, says Jimmy while stubbing his cigarette out.

“GOD! FUCK! I CAN’T MOVE IT!”, the guard continued screaming while clutching his bleeding foot.

“Your fine. You’ll live.”

“OH SHIT! FUCK!”

“I…said…calm…down. Take a deep breath and hold it.”

The guard did as he told, even though it hurt like hell. He finally stopped screaming, but was breathing very erratically.

“You feel a little better now?”, asks Jimmy as he stares at the man. The guard nods slowly.

“Good.”, Says Jimmy as he raises his gun and puts a bullet in the mans other foot. He starts screaming again.

“WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU?! ARRGGGH! WHY WOULD YOU DO THAT?”

“Wanted to make sure I have your attention. I’m gonna ask you a simple question, if you don’t answer, I’ll shoot you stomach. If you still don’t answer, I’ll shoot you in the head. Got it?”


The man nodded, gritting his teeth together to help ease the pain.

“Good. Is there any other way to get in to the restaurant besides the front and kitchen doors?”, asks Jimmy, not taking his sights off the injured man.

“Yeah…, keep following the alley…shit!” , He stopped for a moment, cringing, then continued, “ You’ll come to a low balcony. That’s where the boss and Winslow usually sit. If you could find something to stand on, you could reach it.”

“Thanks.”, Says Jimmy as he holsters the gun. “See ya around.” Jimmy starts to walk off as the man calls to him.

“Wait, you can’t leave me here!”


“I let you live. Don’t push your luck.” , Jimmy replies, not turning to face the man. He continues down the alley way, ignoring the injured guards pleas, until he reached the balcony. He searched the alley, looking for any thing he could use to climb up.


-----------

Dennis sat at his usual table on the private balcony Winslow always reserved for him. He sat alone. Jack said he had other “business” to finish in the basement. Inside the restaurant, two of Winslow’s guards watched the door.

Lance was beginning to become increasingly uncomfortable, he was out in the open with no body guards in the room. Sure there were the guards in front of the door, but they were separated by at least six inches of a solid oak door, that and the fact he didn’t bring a piece with him. All of a sudden a loud crash rang out from the alley down below, and a second later a man wearing an old dirty trench coat with the hood pulled over his head had hauled himself onto the foyer. Before Dennis could make a move towards the door, the man had pulled a swan off on him.

“Sit down. We got a lot of catching up to do.”, The man said as he sat down across from Dennis.

Upon hearing the voice, Dennis smiled. “How’s it going Jimmy?”

-----------

“Oh, you know, Lance. Same old shit.”, replies Jimmy while pulling out a new smoke and lighting it, never taking the gun off Lance.

“Don’t you know smoking can kill you?”

Jimmy chuckles slightly at Dennis’s observation. “You, know Lance……Dennis, I really don’t care anymore.” Jimmy says, while pulling back his hood, exposing his bandaged face.

Dennis showed no sign of remorse, but only removed his glasses, exposing his one good eye.

“Why don’t you just pull the trigger and get it over with?”, asks Dennis with genuine curiosity.

“Eventually, I will. But can’t old friends become reacquainted first?”, replies Jimmy.

“Speaking of old aquatints Jimmy, how’s Jenny doing? I haven’t seen her in a long time. Maybe I should stop by the hospital, and pay her a visit.”, Dennis says, coldly with an unwavering smile.

Jimmy’s blood began to boil, his rage was beginning to resurface. He was starting to lose control. Jimmy stood up and pressed the shotgun right against Lances head. Lance Just stared at him and smiled. Jimmy’s finger tightened around the trigger, ready to deliver the kill shot to Dennis, when the restaurant door burst open. Jack Winslow stood in the doorway holding a big tray of pasta.

“What the fuck?! Guards!” , screamed Winslow as he ran back into the restaurant. Dennis took this time to escape. Lance flipped the table, knocking Jimmy over in the process, then bolted for the door.

“Fuck!” , Jimmy screamed in anger. A moment later the two door guards entered. Jimmy instinctively dove behind the over turned table, as the guards began raining bullets from their Uzi’s across the balcony.
Jimmy set his shotgun down and pulled out his hand cannon. The guards continued their assault on Jimmy, firing unmercifully at the up turned table. Until the resounding “click” of an empty clip put a halt to one of the guards gunfire, which was immediately followed by the second mans gun.

“My turn!”, Jimmy screamed as he dove out from the table, firing at the guards. The hand cannon was more powerful then Jimmy had thought. The first bullet hit one guard in the neck, putting a hole the size of his fist in it. He dropped to the ground, spraying blood, and sputtering incomprehensive words. Jimmy quickly changed his aim to the second man, leveling the six shooter off at his head. Jimmy pulled the trigger, and with a resounding “BOOM”, the man fell to the ground, his head almost, completely obliterated.

Jimmy jumped to his feet and snatched up his scattergun. He ran towards the door, determined to catch up to Lance. He noticed the restaurant had been deserted, probably during the gunfight. He ran down a short flight of stairs next to the balcony, and was greeted with a shot gun blast smacking into the wall behind him. In front of him were three more guards. One was holding a smoking shotgun, the man to his right was wielding an Uzi, and the third man was packing a pistol. Jimmy pulled up the shotgun and blasted off a shot just as they began to open fire.

The buckshot hit the Uzi packing thug square in the chest, sending him backwards over a table. Jimmy rolled out of the way of another shotgun blast as it ripped into the wall behind him again, and fired the remaining shell from his sawn off at him. This one blew away the mans kneecap. He fell to the ground, the shotgun sliding out of his reach.

“Where’d you go?”, Jimmy said to himself, as he scanned the dining room for the last thug, who he had lost track of during the fight. A loud crash came from behind Jimmy. He whipped around to see the last man, who had knocked over a chair while trying to get the drop on Jimmy. Jimmy dropped his shotgun, and pulled out his giant revolver. But before he could squeeze a shot off, the guard opened fire. Jimmy fired back while diving to the side, blasting the thug in the stomach and face. He dropped to the floor, dead. That’s when Jimmy felt the sharp pain in his foot. He looked down at it, and saw a hole on the top of the shoe, with blood pouring out of it. The bastard had shot off two of his toes!

Jimmy struggle to stand, the rage in him building even higher. He heard moaning coming from up ahead. The surviving guard. Jimmy did his best not to scream as he limped his way over to the man. He stood over him, and pointed the gun straight at his face.

“Which way did Lance go?”, Jimmy asks, in a cold tone.


“Out back, through the kitchen!”


Jimmy, without a second thought, pulled the trigger. He limped towards the kitchen door and pushed it open. Inside it was equally deserted. The kitchen was messy, spilled grease and old plates of food lined the counters, and to the right of him was a shattered case that said, FIRE AXE BREAK IN CASE OF AN EMERGENCY.

“Fuck!”

“Die!”, Jimmy whirled around to find the source of the voice, and found Jack Winslow charging at him with the missing fire axe. Jimmy jumped back and raised his revolver just as Jack brought the pointed back end of the axe down. Jimmy didn’t move back enough. The axe crashed down on to his hand, making him drop his gun, and pinning it to the table.

“GOD DAMNIT! FUCKER!”, Jimmy screamed, trying to free his hand. Jimmy saw That Jack was having trouble prying the axe free from his hand. Jimmy groped around the table, searching for any thing he could use, which he did. A butcher knife. He lunged forward and buried the knife in Winslow’s chest. Jack fell backwards with a cry of pain.

“Son of a bitch.”, Jack wheezed. Jimmy ignored him, and instead focused his attention on the axe that had his hand pinned to the table. He grasped it around the handle, took a deep breath, held it, and with all his might ripped it out.

“AHHHHH!”, He screamed as it came out. He looked over at the still breathing Winslow. He Limped over to the man, clutching the axe with his good hand, rage at it’s peak.

“Where’s Lance!”, Jimmy barks at Jack.

“He got away a long time ago. Looks like you fucked up, hero.”, Jack replies while laughing weakly.

Jimmy had, had enough. He raised the axe high over his head. Winslow turned as pale as a ghost.

“Wait, you can’t do this! I can help you find Lance! Come on your supposed to be a good guy, right? A hero!”

“No. I’m not a hero. And I was never a good guy.” The rage completely took over. Jimmy brought the axe down.

-----------

4:00 A.M. Yazzie’s apartment.

Yazzie awoke to the sound of a bottle breaking. It was in the living room. Yazzie stumbled through the dark of his apartment, until he made it to the source of the sound. He flicked on the lights. Sitting on the couch covered in blood, with several beer bottles around him, was Jimmy.

“What happened to you? Are you O.K., man?”

Jimmy stared down at his injured foot while talking.

“No, I’m not. I blew the best chance I had at nailing that bastard Lance, I lost two of my toes, and not mention got a big ass hole in my hand. But that’s not what’ bothering me. It’s what I did to Winslow. I lost it, man. It was like I was there but wasn’t in control. I…I…hacked him to pieces. He died after the first swing, but I kept going. I kept going until there were at least thirty different pieces of him on the floor. But the one thing that bothers me the most is when I was killing him…I…I…”, Jimmy looks up at his friend as he trails off. “Yazzie, I think…I think I liked it.”