31 views
The Hunter: Part One
Blurb:
After his teenage son is stabbed to death by knife-wielding street thugs, an Englander in his early forties living in modern-day East London decides that civilization and the communities existing within it need to be cleansed of the vermin infesting them.
A gritty and fast-paced vigilante justice novel, featuring a morally ambiguous anti-hero cleaning the slums of London, Are You a Criminal? If so, lock your doors.
Story:
The scumbag sat whimpering, an undisciplined dog whose bark was harsher than its bite. Coughing up blood, he sat with his teeth laid out before him like jewellery; his tongue sat next to them, the steak to their chips.
"What did I tell you about selling that stuff? You rat cunt!"
The scumbag didn't respond; he couldn't; he sat there with a look of defeat on his face with self-pity oozing out of his filthy frame.
Martin pulled out his 32. Revolver and put six into the head of the death dealer, opening his mind to his harsh reality.
He walked out of the abandoned flat he kept the scum in, leaving his already foul husk to either slowly rot and decay or be found by the pigs, who will inevitably fail at their jobs in getting the vermin "justice".
He regularly walked the streets of the east end at night, sniffing out the savages, their foul stench residing within the London air. He was after drug dealers, gangsters, and sex criminals, and London had plenty of them.
He'd been tailing this sixteen-year-old, athletic-built lad with black skin and a reputation for being a civilian harassing cancer who'd on multiple occasions threatened innocent members of the public with weapons, all to the radio silence of the police.
He knew he had to step in.
He followed the lad back to his crackhead mother's council flat in Hackney. He followed him up the tower block until he reached the front door; Martin proceeded to place the loaded 32. To the lad's liver, slowly inching his face closer to his ear.
"If you don't wanna die, I suggest you don't make a fucking sound, d'ya understand me?"
"Ay cuz, don't you know wh-"
"Bang!" "Bang!" "Bang!" "Bang!" "Bang!" "Bang!"
Another rat was exterminated.
© B.S.O_UK
After his teenage son is stabbed to death by knife-wielding street thugs, an Englander in his early forties living in modern-day East London decides that civilization and the communities existing within it need to be cleansed of the vermin infesting them.
A gritty and fast-paced vigilante justice novel, featuring a morally ambiguous anti-hero cleaning the slums of London, Are You a Criminal? If so, lock your doors.
Story:
The scumbag sat whimpering, an undisciplined dog whose bark was harsher than its bite. Coughing up blood, he sat with his teeth laid out before him like jewellery; his tongue sat next to them, the steak to their chips.
"What did I tell you about selling that stuff? You rat cunt!"
The scumbag didn't respond; he couldn't; he sat there with a look of defeat on his face with self-pity oozing out of his filthy frame.
Martin pulled out his 32. Revolver and put six into the head of the death dealer, opening his mind to his harsh reality.
He walked out of the abandoned flat he kept the scum in, leaving his already foul husk to either slowly rot and decay or be found by the pigs, who will inevitably fail at their jobs in getting the vermin "justice".
He regularly walked the streets of the east end at night, sniffing out the savages, their foul stench residing within the London air. He was after drug dealers, gangsters, and sex criminals, and London had plenty of them.
He'd been tailing this sixteen-year-old, athletic-built lad with black skin and a reputation for being a civilian harassing cancer who'd on multiple occasions threatened innocent members of the public with weapons, all to the radio silence of the police.
He knew he had to step in.
He followed the lad back to his crackhead mother's council flat in Hackney. He followed him up the tower block until he reached the front door; Martin proceeded to place the loaded 32. To the lad's liver, slowly inching his face closer to his ear.
"If you don't wanna die, I suggest you don't make a fucking sound, d'ya understand me?"
"Ay cuz, don't you know wh-"
"Bang!" "Bang!" "Bang!" "Bang!" "Bang!" "Bang!"
Another rat was exterminated.
© B.S.O_UK
