After that, I woke up in the old warehouse, and I've already told you what happened after that. So I sat there, in the old recliner chair in the centre of my crappy one room apartment, out cold from the booze and drugs. Their was a knock on the door. I couldn't move, my stitches were popped and my head ached. The couch had become stained by the blood seeping out of the cuts adorning my body. Another knock. I tried to muster the strength to tell them to leave, but all I can muster is silent screams of anguish. My throats too dry, need water, whiskey'll do. A third knock. Who the hell is it?
My question is answered. The goon squad from the previous night busted my door down, guns blazing, stray bullets exploding discarded bottles of cheap whiskey and lodging themselves in my walls. It was a rough wake up, but it was the wake up I needed. Like it was a reflex, I quickly spun around, bringing the chair with me, using it as cover as the bullets made dents in the rough material. This chair wouldn't last, and neither would I. The cracked and frosty old window never looked so inviting.
I jumped through it, a hail mary that payed off. I landed on a snowy rooftop below, back first. I stood up, shaking loose shards of glass and clots of snow. I looked up to be greeted by one of the goons following my lead, jumping out of the window, right at me, but he missed his mark. I trotted over to him as he held on for dear life, still clutching to the gun in his hoof. I took it from him, before pushing him down to collide with the cold concrete below.
I looked up, expecting to see the remaining goons in my window, nothing. They'll be coming for me, though, make no mistake about that. I make my way down the fire escape, hoping to escape the hit sqaud. I run out of the dark alley that the fire escape led me to. As soon as I escaped the darkness, I was met face to face with the business end of a shotgun, these buckers meant business. My mind raced, two options came to mind, get on my knees and began or the action movie approach. I chose neither, instead opting to stand there, frozen in fear. A cart came from no where, sending the hit pony into the air, accompinied by a red mist, then back down like a cheap firework. A familiar face stepped out of the cart.
"What the hell are you doin' here?"
I grunt out through gritted teeth. It was Spy Glass.
"I wanted to check up on ya, landlord said he hadn't seen you in a week. What the buck is going on and why does he want to kill you?"
He was referring to the corpse, now mangled beyond recognition.
"Bad joke. Doesn't matter. Go home, this is my case."
He chases after me as I examine the corpse, before taking his shotgun.
"Your a private eye, these shenanigans have gone on long enough, this is far out of your jurisdiction!"
There's a piece of paper next to the stiff, a contract, five grand for my head, and five for the girl. Lotus Blossom, I see her picture, amidst all the chaos her beauty fails to escape me, damn it, keep it together, stay focused! Can be found at Baltimare relaxation spa, crap, they'll be coming for her now. I look back at spy glass and hit him with the butt of my gun, he goes down, should stay down for a while.
I run around him, throwing the shotgun into the passanger seat of his cart and throwing myself in the drivers seat. I sober up quickly, I'm focused now, because I have a job to do, a broken promise to make up for, and a life to save. I'm coming, Lotus Blossom.