STEEMIT-VIRUS CONTEST #6 THE SNIPER

in #steemit-virus7 years ago (edited)

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Hey Steemit friends, Thanks for stopping by. This is my entry for the Steemit Virus contest. It's kinda different, I enjoy writing it. My english it's not so good so if there's a phrase or something weird please let me know to improve! I use a story based on real life, the sniper or "rifle man" really existed in Venezuela, you can digitally check it in the database of local newspapers. Of course, I invented the whole story only by drawing inspiration from those days of terror sown by an old policeman.

"A man was killed yesterday morning in front of a bakery on 10th Street, he is suspected to be another victim of the" Sniper "relatives of the victim commented that the boy just got out of the car to buy some snack and when he was about two meters from the car collapsed on the ground, had been left lifeless, there was no fire, no one was around.

It is presumed that this would be the fourth victim of the "sniper". The authorities are continuing investigations and unofficially information investigating a white corolla that has been seen in the crime scenes more specifically in a square outside the hospital where he was wounded and several witnesses claim to have seen that car running”

Stefan stopped reading what he had printed last week when Susana entered the office impregnating the office with that vanilla scent that Stefan began to hate made him allergic and it always took away the appetite. He tried to be polite, but the truth was that everyone could tell he was disgusted.

He was the typical handsome guy who likes all the girls could have a different every day but he wasn’t that kind of guy. He didn’t go out much and thanks to his parents he wasn’t a boyish womanizer, rather he was addicted to work and a little disordered product of being a spoiled child. He had only been 3 years since leaving his country and the truth had been rude, he was working as an editor for a well-known magazine of finances, and to have arrived without a penny here he had accomplished a lot, no longer treated him as a rookie and he could even have lunch in the dining room without problems.

  • Maybe I'm invisible or I talk to the wall Mr. Carmona?

Stefan was so focused thinking on any track for the case had completely forgotten that Susan was talking, even thought it had come out of the office.

  • Susan sorry, tell me.

His strong voice melted Susan although he denied Stefan met all the requirements for her crazy stereotypical of a "perfect man" and she knew all the mess it was he made up his good chef skills. Susan also knew that Stefan was an expert in Silat and was also Venezuelan but the sad part of everything was that is wife passed away a year ago, That’s why he was so handsome, but removing all romantic things Stefan was a man who lived alone and worked hard to help his family in his country, was alone here and although he spoke a very perfect English and almost without accent even of some xenophobic sometimes attacked him.

  • I read the news you printed, is it close to your house? You are worried? You need something?

  • You don’t have to be so nosy all the time.- Stefan released being impulsive

And then only the door was heard to close heartily. Stefan took a few seconds to get out of the comfy chair from his desk and go through the door by Susan

  • Susan, wait! -He shouted but she was already inside the elevator and the doors almost closed

Stefan didn’t need physical activity actually he was in very good shape, so long continued through the hallway and down the stairs at full speed. Susan had just left the elevator and he call her again

  • Susan! Sorry! If I'm really stressed -he said breathlessly - you're the only one I have, the only one I have here. - And when Stefan said that, he knew there was no turning back.

They went to a nearby restaurant that Stefan loved; Susan was skeptical every word that Stefan said gets through her heart, the feelings won this time. After ordering the food and having the second glass of wine Susan said impatiently:

  • Stefan. Spell it out -Her gaze was strong, determined.

  • Well Susan, don’t know where to start.... - Stefan said this with a tone of doubt, not because he didn’t want to tell it but because he felt all the confusion in his head but he finally say determined. -I think my father is the assassin of the sniper.

  • How? Why do you say that? - This was a surprise to Susan and the orbit of his eyes was impressively large.

  • Susan, when I was young, my father tells me little bedtime stories, which were not exactly fairy tales, but they were not terrifying. Legend has it that my family has been heiress of the touch of the parka for centuries, each generation more or less choose a person who is who will be The Death. It does not seem strange to you that my grandfather and my great-grandfather have died at the same age, almost at the same time. Always you have to see number 9 Susan. There are no four murders, they are 8. The next one is the last one.

  • Stefan, are you playing with me?

  • Susan, in these three years we tried to have a friendship have I ever lied to you? I've made some joke or something like that? This is serious Susan think I'll go crazy.

  • Okay, okay. Let's say I hypothetically believe you. And if I analyze it quickly I can only say that your dad is doing his job uh?

  • Susan No, you do not understand, it is something more serious. It stresses me that you don’t understand. Let's see ... - It lasted about half a minute thinking and began to release - Legend has it that give you a daily list, and that the deaths are almost always beyond recognition, are never through an intermediary as a "sniper" that he who derails and takes affection for death as such is condemned for life being the parka for hundreds of years.

  • Ah means you're not born with that, they give it to you. It's like a gift then. - Susan's face was like who gets diamonds in her purse, she loved these kind of films these themes books. – Don’t wait, that means your dad wants to be… - But didn’t finish the sentence, his face became a tragedy. Now she understood all the stress of Stefan, her father did not want to stop being The Death.

  • I must get to Venezuela Susan, I must stop my father. - And his tears flowed and there in that moment Susan knew it was not a lie, pressure is eating this guy.

The next day they were landing at the Maiquetía airport, in Venezuela.

Susan was surprised by how much Stefan overprotective not let a second of his side separate. Of course, Susan didn’t know how dangerous it was and how much Venezuela drew attention to a stranger so Stefan preferred to keep everything under control. When they got home they got Stefan's mom making a rich meal, the house was infused with fascinating smells. Everything seemed to be in complete tranquility, as if Stefan had never left, and in fact his mother was quite surprised that he arrived with a girl, skinny, but cute.

Stefan went out to find his father a retired cop, it was getting late, it was almost 7pm and he had left the car. An old white corolla. He was in the house of one of his old comrades from the police corps two or three blocks from where Stefan lived.

When he arrived, he rang the bell and waited about 5 minutes outside, but no one came out. When he knocked on the door with his fist It opened wide, inviting him to pass. The apartment was dark and smelled a little weird. Sulfur knew Stefan. Upon reaching the room he saw all desolate and an open window through which entered a cold breeze. And on the floor behind furniture he watched one foot, the boy tried not to panic and went but he knew what he would see. The friend of his father had been killed by a clever kick in the head.

And in the hallway was his father.

  • Son, what are you doing here? I told you not to come. I told you not to travel.

  • Dad , why you’re doing these things? I know you've been you in the newspapers I know you too well. I don’t understand what you're trying to do, you have to stop - his voice, though broken, was understandable.

  • I do this for you son. So you can enjoy life that I never had. You can also have quiet children without worry; I'm giving you the future you deserve. If you don’t leave here right now I'll have to hurt you or you'll be an accomplice, and your prints are all over the place.

  • What? Dad that you talk about, you'll be death for many lives; you'll look for me when it's my time. I'm not going to let you do this. Things don’t have to be that way. Stop.

But his father was already stabbing him. What his father didn’t know was the excellent skills of martial arts that his skinny son had adopted and after a kick that left him without air had to opt for a small gun with a short barrel, half of the room was destroyed. The shots alarmed the neighbors who were in the form of help or inquisitive.

But before they all arrived, his father tried to shoot him in the head, a rare way to help him with the legacy of death. Give it to me. Through tears, sobs and blood he saw the dead body of his father that the shot had failed, shooting himself in error. Falling near the window lying on the ground defeated and nearly killed, it was observing his hands with little light coming through the open windows and to his surprise, was not red blood. It was black blood, it had been marked.

Stefan was cursed.

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Thank you honey !

Awesome story... I love it.

Steem on.

Thanks for reading me! :)

Sussan is the name of my Steemit gf.

Love your write up

Oh, cute name! Thanks for reading me !



This look beautiful my friend. I love your neatness. It really can tell about your personality. It all looks so nice :)

Yeeey! This means that I'm improving!! :D
Thanks for stopping by!

Good job, your post respects the values of quality and originality, required in the group Steemit Community Quality Support , I am happy to support your good work with my upvote. Keep it up! 😉

Thank you so much for the support! I will keep the good work ! :D