Officer Miles Langford came from a family of cops - his father, both his brothers, and his grandfather, uncles and great grandfather and many of his ancestors as long as he could remember had served the city as police officers. The name Langford was practically synonymous with 'the police' in this city, but unlike his forebears Miles was not an upstanding public servant. Miles had a gambling habit, and a few years ago he'd gotten in debt to some bad people to pay off his debts, bad people who weren't swayed by his family name, so Miles did what he had to do to make some extra money - the quarantine of Nelly's Peak had given him the perfect opportunity to make some significant cash on the side by offering 'protection' to some of the local pimps and drug dealers in exchange for a small fee. He'd make sure the police looked the other way while they did their business, and life was good for everyone. Easy money, or so he thought. That some of the criminals paid him in product - drugs and free access to some of the best girls - was an unanticipated bonus.
Everything was going great for Miles, until tonight. He had just left a meeting with one of the pimps and gotten into his squad car, fishing through his pockets for the keys, when he heard the voice - a male voice - in his car. What it said had chilled his blood.
"Officer Langford. We have an issue that needs to be discussed."
Miles panicked and looked around. The back seat of the car was dark, and nobody was there but he'd sworn that was where it'd come from. Miles reached for his gun, but it was already too late - a moment later, he felt a sharp prick on the back of his neck, and then it started - it was like he was on fire from the inside. God, it hurt. Now he knew the guy - whoever it was- was behind him in the back seat, and miles panicked, reaching for the door handle, but it was no good; he could have sworn he heard the sound of a cell door slamming shut, and he couldn't get the door to open. He was locked in now; the guy must have injected him with something. Miraculously, Miles managed to get to his gun out of its shoulder holster and twist around to fire at the assailant in the back seat. A shot rang out, a deafening sound within the confines of the car. Miles was sure he'd hit the guy, but now it seemed like he was just GONE.
Then the voice started speaking again "Miles, you failed at your duty and betrayed your sworn oath to serve and protect the people of this city. You serve yourself and protect the criminals who make their lives worse, and for that you are going to die. I know you're catholic, so i suggest you make your peace with god, because you are about to meet him. Well..maybe not, you're probably going to see the other guy."
Miles' vision swam, and he screamed out "FUCK YOU!" and unloaded the rest of the magzine into the back seat where he'd heard the voice coming from.
"That's how you talk to god? No wonder you're going to hell."
Miles tried unlocking the door again, but it just wouldn't open. He fumbled for his extra magazine, but it was too late - the poison did its work, and he died leaning against the drivers-side window without ever knowing that he'd run afoul of a monster much like himself who would do what miles had failed to do - protect the people of the city.
Named after the first unfortunate suicide in New Haven, she was a sister in the church who got to close to the abyss. This part of the city is the poorest of the neighborhoods and has a high crime rate. It is North East of the city, a few miles from Murkwood cemetery and the Suicide Cliffs themselves.
1 post • Page 1 of 1
Who is online
Users browsing this forum: No registered users and 1 guest