Post by Nara Shikamano on Aug 29, 2006 13:02:20 GMT -5
I've been working on this character for a long time, I love to write about Detectives. Sorta like Humphrey Bogart as Sam Spade in The Maltese Falcon, or Philip Marlowe in The Big Sleep. (I read both books before the movies and Humprey Bogart was awsome in both roles!) Well here is a story about a Detective I named Frank Hero, set in a city I created named Haven City...Its one of the first things I ever wrote down about this detective so the writing may be a little immature but you be the judge.
Hero Tale
The distinguished but aging Detective Frank Hero stood in his corner office in the depths of Haven City. Yes, Haven City. I know it’s horrible even to think about it. If you are young and naive and have no idea of this place, you’re lucky, I refuse to tell you where this city is. Just try to forget the fact that this story is set in such a horrible place. Let’s just say Detective Hero would rather be dealing with the scum of the earth back at his last job in New York City.
His time in New York may be considered a happier story than this one. The last case Hero worked on in the Big Apple was an intriguing one about a person’s memory loss, and the many shot up bodies that went with it. Hero was doing alright in New York City, but everyone there knew his name and his face. So how else could those that knew him and liked him protect the great Detective Hero other than send him some place else?
Back in Haven City it was sunset, the calmest part of the day. Hero was having a drink; the liquid seemed to calm him down a spell so he could think. He put the cup down and looked at his watch, his patrol would be coming around soon.
“Me! Doing a patrol in a cherry top!” he thought gruffly.
But even so, he had to do it. He came to Haven City with the thought of going right to the top, but he had to earn that by going out on patrol with a kid, a very, very talkative kid.
Someone like Detective Frank Hero always comes with a colorful history. He was born into a loving home in the Red Hook section of Brooklyn. He grew up there, went to school there, and finally to went college there. He spent almost his entire life in the borough of Brooklyn. When he was young he had his fair share of what the entire city had to offer him: drugs and money; which could ultimately lead to crime. But this was not for Frank Hero, no, he saw kid after kid go down because of gangs and drug crime. All he wanted to do was to stop it from happening, to save a generation that wouldn’t listen, so he became a cop and finally a detective.
Back in his office in Haven City, he took his hat off the hanger, put it on and straightened it, then he put on his long trench coat. All right wait, stop reading right there. Now think about this, I know it’s the most used cliché ever for a detective to wear a trench coat, but it sometimes can get cold in Haven City. and Hero wasn’t a young man anymore. He couldn’t get sick and miss any chances to make Haven City clean. Now then, back to the story. Hero put on his trench coat and turned to the door; it opened and a fat sweaty man huffed and puffed into his office.
“Hey Hero, cap wants to see ya!” he breathed out just before falling into one of Hero’s extra chairs.
The fat man looked over and saw the glass on Hero’s desk, he smiled and coughed a little before reaching over and picking it up. The ice clinked inside of it as the fat man brought it to his lips. He had a bad comb over. Luckily, Hero didn’t have to deal with a problem like that. He had an afro back in the day and still had a full head of hair, albeit silver gray.
“Watcha got in here Hero? Ain’t Cap tell ya there is no drinkin' round here?” the fat man queried, very matter of factly.
“Its orange soda. You said cap wanted to see me?” inquired Hero.
“Yeah, yeah. Orange soda huh? Ain’t that for kids?” the fat man questioned.
“Guess not” said Hero as he strode out of his office, he walked past his secretary (yes he .has one) and stopped in front of her.
“Hey kid, any mail for me?” he asked, hurriedly. She didn’t look up, just kept on filing her nails.
“No mail, Mr. Hero” she said complacently, but before she could finish, Hero was gone. He had a feeling she would say that.
Hero made a beeline to the Captain’s office and stopped as he reached the door way. The Captain was having one of his many screaming fits at one of the officers. Hero had stood up to many a rotten Captain in his heyday. He also had a feeling that the Captain was gonna give him his first big test. A sullen and gloomy looking officer stomped out of the office and Hero smiled at him, just as the door closed. Hero reached for the doorknob. The Captain spoke, or yelled I should say.
“Hero get the hell in here!” howled the Captain.
Hero opened up the door and strolled into the office. The Captain was wearing a blue uniform covered in medals and he was sweating profusely for two reasons. One, it took a lot of energy to yell and scream all day and two, those medals were heavy! The Captain pointed to a chair and Hero sat down. The Captain sat also and wiped his forehead with a handkerchief, he would need a bigger one if he wanted to wipe all that space where hair should be. Hero listened as the Captain explained his case.
A convict had escaped from jail just a day before being transferred to an insane asylum, an inspired location. When he got out, he kidnapped the son of the lawyer that prosecuted him and him away for life. He was held up in an apartment in the middle of the city threatening to kill the kid.
“And its my job to get him out, isn’t that right?” interrupted Hero. The Captain smiled and chuckled a bit.
“Yeah, that's right Hero, now get too it! Oh and take the kid. Get his feet wet, but don’t you dare come back with the body of your partner, you hear me?!” howled the Captain as Hero strode out to get his partner.
Hero found him at his desk, the picture of neatness and perfection. Hero called to him and he looked up. Hero turned and walked off and the kid followed him out the door. His name was Officer Cannon and he was a pretty nervous kid. Hero was sure he would get his “City sense” one day and be a fine officer.
Hero and Cannon slid into Hero’s old car from New York. How could he part with such a relic, anyway? Well, like I said, they slid in and took off. Hero flipped on the radio and pushed a button to put on a CD. He didn’t have to flip through six or seven different ones, there was only one CD in there, the music floated out and Cannon got fidgety.
“Why do we have to listen to this Stringbean or whatever his name-” started Cannon before Hero interrupted.
“This is Bruce Springsteen” declared Hero passionately “He is the greatest of the great, and this is music. All right, so try to listen and not talk” explained Hero.
“Why can’t we-” started Cannon again until he was interrupted again by Hero.
“We can’t play your music Cannon. When this is your car and when you are the boss, we will play your music. Okay, sonny boy? Besides, you’re not from New York and you wouldn’t understand” explained Hero comically.
Cannon drove the car onwards toward the crime scene and soon they heard the sirens going, and saw the lights blinking. Hero shifted in his seat, he hoped he could at least get in there and soften up this maniac before they cuffed him. Any man who would kill a kid deserved a kick in the face and Hero was the right man to do it.
*****
“Well if it isn’t the big shot Hero and his partner?” joked some of the officers as the pair rose out of Hero’s car and walked to the very brink of the half circle of cars around a very foreboding apartment building.
Hero saw the officer in charge, he had seen this officer around the precinct a few times. Sergeant Henderson was a crazy one, Hero heard Henderson had rumbled with a small army of Braddock’s men (one of the two crime bosses, mainly dealing with drugs, his men wore red rags on their wrists to separate themselves from everyone else) and lived to tell the tale. Henderson was a shoo in for the next Captain, and she was a woman.
Hero spoke with Sergeant Henderson about the man inside and explained the Captain had sent Hero to take the man out. Henderson smiled and said, “Well the Captain must hate you, but if it’s what he wants then I’ll let you in. Are you taking the kid along?”
“No, he stays out here. Make sure he stays out here.” Hero looked up at the building and then looked back at Sergeant Henderson. “Did he make contact with anyone yet?” asked Hero.
“No, but a man leaving the building told us he saw six other escaped convicts take the kid inside. Oh, we’re not sure what room he is held up in, so if you meet any of the convicts please ask them nicely to direct you to the room with the our perp in it.” explained Henderson
Henderson motioned to one of the officers and he flipped on the loudspeaker. He spoke to the building almost as if the building would sigh a little and then answer back to him in a deep, dark, and bellowing voice. The officer said they were sending somone in and the building decided not to answer.
****
A few newspapers rustled in the wind as Hero walked calmly up to the building. As soon as he opened the doors he was engulfed in the darkness that lied inside. A hush came over the enitre force and Officer Cannon replayed the events in his mind again. Hero had taken out his gun, laid it on the hood of the nearest police car and walked into the building. Officer Cannon sucked in air as Hero was engulfed in darkness and then blew it out, his stomach was doing barrel rolls.
****
Exactly one hour passed until someone finally came out, a shape melted away from the shadows around the building but it wasn’t just one person, the officers could see it was three. Everyone raised their guns and all at once clicking could be heard as the officers pulled their hammers back.
“Who is that, Hero?” cried out Sergeant Henderson weakly. “Stop or we’ll shoot!” she cried out again.
“God dammit Henderson, I just got here, don’t go puttin’ holes in me now!” declared Detective Hero as he walked from the shadows. Carrying a small boy and the unconscious body of their perp.
The End
Oh and by the way, as you can tell I love Bruce Springsteen so whoever doesn't like him please post here and I'l punch you in the face.
lol just kidding I live in New Jersey so how can't I love his music! But I'll still punch you.
;D
Hero Tale
The distinguished but aging Detective Frank Hero stood in his corner office in the depths of Haven City. Yes, Haven City. I know it’s horrible even to think about it. If you are young and naive and have no idea of this place, you’re lucky, I refuse to tell you where this city is. Just try to forget the fact that this story is set in such a horrible place. Let’s just say Detective Hero would rather be dealing with the scum of the earth back at his last job in New York City.
His time in New York may be considered a happier story than this one. The last case Hero worked on in the Big Apple was an intriguing one about a person’s memory loss, and the many shot up bodies that went with it. Hero was doing alright in New York City, but everyone there knew his name and his face. So how else could those that knew him and liked him protect the great Detective Hero other than send him some place else?
Back in Haven City it was sunset, the calmest part of the day. Hero was having a drink; the liquid seemed to calm him down a spell so he could think. He put the cup down and looked at his watch, his patrol would be coming around soon.
“Me! Doing a patrol in a cherry top!” he thought gruffly.
But even so, he had to do it. He came to Haven City with the thought of going right to the top, but he had to earn that by going out on patrol with a kid, a very, very talkative kid.
Someone like Detective Frank Hero always comes with a colorful history. He was born into a loving home in the Red Hook section of Brooklyn. He grew up there, went to school there, and finally to went college there. He spent almost his entire life in the borough of Brooklyn. When he was young he had his fair share of what the entire city had to offer him: drugs and money; which could ultimately lead to crime. But this was not for Frank Hero, no, he saw kid after kid go down because of gangs and drug crime. All he wanted to do was to stop it from happening, to save a generation that wouldn’t listen, so he became a cop and finally a detective.
Back in his office in Haven City, he took his hat off the hanger, put it on and straightened it, then he put on his long trench coat. All right wait, stop reading right there. Now think about this, I know it’s the most used cliché ever for a detective to wear a trench coat, but it sometimes can get cold in Haven City. and Hero wasn’t a young man anymore. He couldn’t get sick and miss any chances to make Haven City clean. Now then, back to the story. Hero put on his trench coat and turned to the door; it opened and a fat sweaty man huffed and puffed into his office.
“Hey Hero, cap wants to see ya!” he breathed out just before falling into one of Hero’s extra chairs.
The fat man looked over and saw the glass on Hero’s desk, he smiled and coughed a little before reaching over and picking it up. The ice clinked inside of it as the fat man brought it to his lips. He had a bad comb over. Luckily, Hero didn’t have to deal with a problem like that. He had an afro back in the day and still had a full head of hair, albeit silver gray.
“Watcha got in here Hero? Ain’t Cap tell ya there is no drinkin' round here?” the fat man queried, very matter of factly.
“Its orange soda. You said cap wanted to see me?” inquired Hero.
“Yeah, yeah. Orange soda huh? Ain’t that for kids?” the fat man questioned.
“Guess not” said Hero as he strode out of his office, he walked past his secretary (yes he .has one) and stopped in front of her.
“Hey kid, any mail for me?” he asked, hurriedly. She didn’t look up, just kept on filing her nails.
“No mail, Mr. Hero” she said complacently, but before she could finish, Hero was gone. He had a feeling she would say that.
Hero made a beeline to the Captain’s office and stopped as he reached the door way. The Captain was having one of his many screaming fits at one of the officers. Hero had stood up to many a rotten Captain in his heyday. He also had a feeling that the Captain was gonna give him his first big test. A sullen and gloomy looking officer stomped out of the office and Hero smiled at him, just as the door closed. Hero reached for the doorknob. The Captain spoke, or yelled I should say.
“Hero get the hell in here!” howled the Captain.
Hero opened up the door and strolled into the office. The Captain was wearing a blue uniform covered in medals and he was sweating profusely for two reasons. One, it took a lot of energy to yell and scream all day and two, those medals were heavy! The Captain pointed to a chair and Hero sat down. The Captain sat also and wiped his forehead with a handkerchief, he would need a bigger one if he wanted to wipe all that space where hair should be. Hero listened as the Captain explained his case.
A convict had escaped from jail just a day before being transferred to an insane asylum, an inspired location. When he got out, he kidnapped the son of the lawyer that prosecuted him and him away for life. He was held up in an apartment in the middle of the city threatening to kill the kid.
“And its my job to get him out, isn’t that right?” interrupted Hero. The Captain smiled and chuckled a bit.
“Yeah, that's right Hero, now get too it! Oh and take the kid. Get his feet wet, but don’t you dare come back with the body of your partner, you hear me?!” howled the Captain as Hero strode out to get his partner.
Hero found him at his desk, the picture of neatness and perfection. Hero called to him and he looked up. Hero turned and walked off and the kid followed him out the door. His name was Officer Cannon and he was a pretty nervous kid. Hero was sure he would get his “City sense” one day and be a fine officer.
Hero and Cannon slid into Hero’s old car from New York. How could he part with such a relic, anyway? Well, like I said, they slid in and took off. Hero flipped on the radio and pushed a button to put on a CD. He didn’t have to flip through six or seven different ones, there was only one CD in there, the music floated out and Cannon got fidgety.
“Why do we have to listen to this Stringbean or whatever his name-” started Cannon before Hero interrupted.
“This is Bruce Springsteen” declared Hero passionately “He is the greatest of the great, and this is music. All right, so try to listen and not talk” explained Hero.
“Why can’t we-” started Cannon again until he was interrupted again by Hero.
“We can’t play your music Cannon. When this is your car and when you are the boss, we will play your music. Okay, sonny boy? Besides, you’re not from New York and you wouldn’t understand” explained Hero comically.
Cannon drove the car onwards toward the crime scene and soon they heard the sirens going, and saw the lights blinking. Hero shifted in his seat, he hoped he could at least get in there and soften up this maniac before they cuffed him. Any man who would kill a kid deserved a kick in the face and Hero was the right man to do it.
*****
“Well if it isn’t the big shot Hero and his partner?” joked some of the officers as the pair rose out of Hero’s car and walked to the very brink of the half circle of cars around a very foreboding apartment building.
Hero saw the officer in charge, he had seen this officer around the precinct a few times. Sergeant Henderson was a crazy one, Hero heard Henderson had rumbled with a small army of Braddock’s men (one of the two crime bosses, mainly dealing with drugs, his men wore red rags on their wrists to separate themselves from everyone else) and lived to tell the tale. Henderson was a shoo in for the next Captain, and she was a woman.
Hero spoke with Sergeant Henderson about the man inside and explained the Captain had sent Hero to take the man out. Henderson smiled and said, “Well the Captain must hate you, but if it’s what he wants then I’ll let you in. Are you taking the kid along?”
“No, he stays out here. Make sure he stays out here.” Hero looked up at the building and then looked back at Sergeant Henderson. “Did he make contact with anyone yet?” asked Hero.
“No, but a man leaving the building told us he saw six other escaped convicts take the kid inside. Oh, we’re not sure what room he is held up in, so if you meet any of the convicts please ask them nicely to direct you to the room with the our perp in it.” explained Henderson
Henderson motioned to one of the officers and he flipped on the loudspeaker. He spoke to the building almost as if the building would sigh a little and then answer back to him in a deep, dark, and bellowing voice. The officer said they were sending somone in and the building decided not to answer.
****
A few newspapers rustled in the wind as Hero walked calmly up to the building. As soon as he opened the doors he was engulfed in the darkness that lied inside. A hush came over the enitre force and Officer Cannon replayed the events in his mind again. Hero had taken out his gun, laid it on the hood of the nearest police car and walked into the building. Officer Cannon sucked in air as Hero was engulfed in darkness and then blew it out, his stomach was doing barrel rolls.
****
Exactly one hour passed until someone finally came out, a shape melted away from the shadows around the building but it wasn’t just one person, the officers could see it was three. Everyone raised their guns and all at once clicking could be heard as the officers pulled their hammers back.
“Who is that, Hero?” cried out Sergeant Henderson weakly. “Stop or we’ll shoot!” she cried out again.
“God dammit Henderson, I just got here, don’t go puttin’ holes in me now!” declared Detective Hero as he walked from the shadows. Carrying a small boy and the unconscious body of their perp.
The End
Oh and by the way, as you can tell I love Bruce Springsteen so whoever doesn't like him please post here and I'l punch you in the face.
lol just kidding I live in New Jersey so how can't I love his music! But I'll still punch you.
;D
