Post by Azrael/Iris on Jul 13, 2011 12:32:19 GMT -6
The Case of Robin Hood
By
Art Zima
The sweet air filled the nostrils of the short, fat man who walked towards the house. In his right hand he carried a case of Bud Light; and in his pocket he carried a few Trojan rubbers. His palms started to sweat with excitement as his heart raced as he neared the front door. We’ll call him…Chuck. Now…Chuck is your average working class 45 year old male. He works at a dead end job with a crappy pay and even crappier treatment from his boss, he has no wife to come home to, only the comfort of his ‘babies’. Which really are ‘babies’, Chuck has a very dirty secret…Chuck is a pedophile. He has evaded the capture of law for 20 years now. He knows how this goes down. He’s a pro at this…a sick pro. He feels invincible, no one can catch him. He finally reaches the door and raises a hand to knock on it, when the door slowly opens. Wide enough for Chuck to squeeze through, despite years of doing this; he noticed nothing wrong or suspicious about the door opening by itself. (He figured it was one of the motion sensor doors.) He stood in the living room, the dirt that crawled it’s way into his shoes seemed to prefer the softness of the carpet as it wiped off from his shoe with every step he took. “Hey! I’m glad you came! I’ll be out in a second. I’m just finishing getting ready. Just take a seat at the dining room table.” A young female’s voice called from the bathroom. “Oh, okay.” Chuck replied in a deep voice and scuffled his way to the table. When he got to the table, he placed the case of beer on it and pulled out one of the chairs and took a seat on it. He impatiently drummed his fingers on the table, to a beat that only he could hear. His hormones racing through him like a race horse and he was getting very antsy and a slight suspicion rose in him. “Sweetie…Are you ready yet?” he called out to the bathroom. No answer, his heart raced in fear and sweat started to form on his forehead like water formed on a cold can of Coke on a hot day. Chuck started to stand up when a commanding voice boomed out “Sit down.” Chuck quickly turned around and found him self face-to-face with a rather tall man who are a long black coat; he had long dark brown hair he kept in a neat ponytail and was clean shaved. He had a pair of piercing green eyes that seemed to pierce Chuck’s soul. “Who the hell are you?!” barked Chuck in a spasm of fear. “Your worst nightmare come true, pedo.” The figure replied calmly as he threw an envelope on the table. Chuck picked up the envelope. His hands were shaking in fear as he grabbed it and fumbled with the seal. He finally opened it after about 15 seconds of fumbling with it and the expression turned into a look of horror and he turned pale white. “H-h-how did you get these?!” He demanded. “You’re not in a position to be giving orders, Chuck.” The figure replied coldly. Chuck grasped the edge of the table until his knuckles turned white. “Your kind of people disgusts me.” The figure said, he was reaching into his coat pocket as he was saying this. Chuck gasped and fainted. The figure pulled out a pair of handcuffs and slipped the cuffs onto Chuck and cuffed him to the chair. He pulled out a slip of paper and a sharpie, wrote something on them and pinned it to the front of Chuck’s shirt. He silently went over to the phone, dialed 911, placed the receiver on the counter and left the house like a shadow. A few minutes later, a lone squad car pulled up to the house. He left the safety of his vehicle and took a deep breath and drew his weapon and walked up slowly to the house, he found the door open and entered. He saw a large figure sitting in the chair in the dining room, he raised his gun and yelled “Sir, put your hands up where I can see them!” No response. The officer repeated the question, no response. He got tired of this game and walked over; gun raised and found the man was unconscious. He had pictures on the table next to him of himself with under aged females and copies of his conversations with these girls. The officer stole a glance at the paper pinned to his shirt and saw a drawing of a robin wearing a hood. “Robin…Hood…?” He whispered.
(I wrote this story for an english assignment for my senior year...just thought I would share it...)
By
Art Zima
The sweet air filled the nostrils of the short, fat man who walked towards the house. In his right hand he carried a case of Bud Light; and in his pocket he carried a few Trojan rubbers. His palms started to sweat with excitement as his heart raced as he neared the front door. We’ll call him…Chuck. Now…Chuck is your average working class 45 year old male. He works at a dead end job with a crappy pay and even crappier treatment from his boss, he has no wife to come home to, only the comfort of his ‘babies’. Which really are ‘babies’, Chuck has a very dirty secret…Chuck is a pedophile. He has evaded the capture of law for 20 years now. He knows how this goes down. He’s a pro at this…a sick pro. He feels invincible, no one can catch him. He finally reaches the door and raises a hand to knock on it, when the door slowly opens. Wide enough for Chuck to squeeze through, despite years of doing this; he noticed nothing wrong or suspicious about the door opening by itself. (He figured it was one of the motion sensor doors.) He stood in the living room, the dirt that crawled it’s way into his shoes seemed to prefer the softness of the carpet as it wiped off from his shoe with every step he took. “Hey! I’m glad you came! I’ll be out in a second. I’m just finishing getting ready. Just take a seat at the dining room table.” A young female’s voice called from the bathroom. “Oh, okay.” Chuck replied in a deep voice and scuffled his way to the table. When he got to the table, he placed the case of beer on it and pulled out one of the chairs and took a seat on it. He impatiently drummed his fingers on the table, to a beat that only he could hear. His hormones racing through him like a race horse and he was getting very antsy and a slight suspicion rose in him. “Sweetie…Are you ready yet?” he called out to the bathroom. No answer, his heart raced in fear and sweat started to form on his forehead like water formed on a cold can of Coke on a hot day. Chuck started to stand up when a commanding voice boomed out “Sit down.” Chuck quickly turned around and found him self face-to-face with a rather tall man who are a long black coat; he had long dark brown hair he kept in a neat ponytail and was clean shaved. He had a pair of piercing green eyes that seemed to pierce Chuck’s soul. “Who the hell are you?!” barked Chuck in a spasm of fear. “Your worst nightmare come true, pedo.” The figure replied calmly as he threw an envelope on the table. Chuck picked up the envelope. His hands were shaking in fear as he grabbed it and fumbled with the seal. He finally opened it after about 15 seconds of fumbling with it and the expression turned into a look of horror and he turned pale white. “H-h-how did you get these?!” He demanded. “You’re not in a position to be giving orders, Chuck.” The figure replied coldly. Chuck grasped the edge of the table until his knuckles turned white. “Your kind of people disgusts me.” The figure said, he was reaching into his coat pocket as he was saying this. Chuck gasped and fainted. The figure pulled out a pair of handcuffs and slipped the cuffs onto Chuck and cuffed him to the chair. He pulled out a slip of paper and a sharpie, wrote something on them and pinned it to the front of Chuck’s shirt. He silently went over to the phone, dialed 911, placed the receiver on the counter and left the house like a shadow. A few minutes later, a lone squad car pulled up to the house. He left the safety of his vehicle and took a deep breath and drew his weapon and walked up slowly to the house, he found the door open and entered. He saw a large figure sitting in the chair in the dining room, he raised his gun and yelled “Sir, put your hands up where I can see them!” No response. The officer repeated the question, no response. He got tired of this game and walked over; gun raised and found the man was unconscious. He had pictures on the table next to him of himself with under aged females and copies of his conversations with these girls. The officer stole a glance at the paper pinned to his shirt and saw a drawing of a robin wearing a hood. “Robin…Hood…?” He whispered.
(I wrote this story for an english assignment for my senior year...just thought I would share it...)