"Hey buddy, what do you think you're doing out here?" The voice that came to Chuck's ears was hoarse and rough, it sounded like someone who hadn't slept in ages and lived on coffee and— he sniffed the air. Cigarettes.
God sat up and looked this man in the face. He didn't say anything, but he thinks he got the message. Thinking. Something that he created. Something spectacular, or in some cases, sinister.
"Damn hobo. How 'bout I put you outta your misery, eh?"
"I can call the police if I want right now, Cameron Brooks." The man, who's supposedly named Cameron, his face becomes frightened, but still tries to put up a false bravado.
"Sure you will."
"You're a wanted criminal. I can. I have a phone with me."
"Yeah right buddy, go back home to your trash can fire."
"Cigarettes kill, you know."
"Yeah, that's what I use em' for."
"Not to kill yourself of course. Isn't that why they call you the cigarette killer?" There was silence. Cameron seems taken aback.
"You're funny. Maybe shave you face and then talk to me," Cameron chuckled at his own joke.
"Well you're funny. Maybe get a nicer attitude and then talk to me," Chuck retorted sarcastically.
"Fuck you Chuck, asshole," Cameron retorts. He goes to walk away, when he's caught off guard.
"It's funny, because I never said my name was Chuck."
YOU ARE READING
God: A Story Of A Failed Lord
FantasyThis is a story that includes a few of my original characters, but mainly focuses on one named Chuck. Enjoy!!
