a short story written by me

May 8, 2012, 11:52 AM |

    A short story ken george newman

The sweat ran down his muscle toned back
leaving salt tracks in their wake.
Paul could never remember a summer so hot as
this one had been,he had showered twice alaready,
was into a second change of clothes.
He picked up his car keys, had a last look around
his lavish apartment.
He had worked hard to be able to afford to buy
this luxurious place in the best part of town.
He thought smugly about the last deal he had pulled off.
He had brought a gambling casino from a russian who
was in financial difficuties, it was rumoured from the
russian mafia.Paul smiled, a grin spreading across his handsome face.
He was thirty two, a self made millionaire,all made from buying and
selling properties.If many more deals come to me like the casino I
will retire and go to live in the south of france Paul mused. He headed
for the door with intentions of grabbing a bite at maxies, his regular
italian restaurant.
A reverberating bang assaulted his ears he wondered where the sound
had come from,
He couldn't understand why he was lying on the floor, his ears filled with a
high pitched whining sound,he tried to stand but something was pinning his legs to
the ground.
A shadow passed over him, and a man in a foreign voice said "hello my friend
you seem to have hurt yourself,here give me your hand I will help you up"
Paul winced as pain enveloped his body "please help me" he cried "I don't know
what has happened to me."
" you have been in an accident" the foreign voice said. Something in his manner
had changed.
He was no longer the caring voice Paul had first heard. There was a quiet menace in his tone.
"you have something that belongs to me, I want you to tell me where the deeds to my casino is.
Tell me and you will live"
In the distance Paul could hear the sound of sirens wailing their urgent tones ...
"Go to hell" Paul screamed at him,as the stranger pulled out a .38 magnum took aim..
Paul awoke to find himself surrounded by medics stemming the blood flow fom his leg....
his eyes searched franticaly for the foreign stranger. There was no evidence of him to be
found anywhere.
A mile from where he lived a body quietly slid into the river in a sack a neat round hole
in the middle of his head ..the mafiosa boss grinned as he murmured "you should have paid your dues