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36 Rain (I)

Ellis De Stella
August 3rd
1200 PM

[POV of Jason]

[Industuctable by Disturbed plays in the background]
I had moved alot of stuff into the mansion, I also completely supported the structure. I had set up metal beams that ran through the mansion and kept it suspended, this was possible because the metal beams were set in concrete on the exterior of the mansion. I then got two large solar Generators and put them in the attic, I then put solar panels on the large roof. I got the power running and layed industrial LED lights throughout the place, I had a backup Military Generator steps from the door. I realised I hadn't looked in the garage, it seemed like the first place I'd look... but I was too caught up in the initial construction. I tried to open the large door but it wouldn't budge, I went to a small window on the size, there was a small pine tree stump beside the window. I took off my worn fadora and put the top against the window, I then punched the hat and broke the glass. I put the fadora back on and crawled through the window. Inside the garage it was, oddly, dry. I smelled something that burnt my nose a little, I then saw a dusty lamp... the kerosene's liquid factor had evaporated and left a gunk in the bottom. I then felt a box and felt inside, it was a wax like texture. I took out what felt like a candle, it was, and lit it. The candle revealed a 1920s era Mack truck, there was a tarp that hung over the edges of the bed. I checked the truck cab and found a sawed off Parker Brothers shotgun, and a whiskey bottle. I grabbed the shotgun and took the shells out of the barrels, the gun was usable... except for the dry rot on the buttstock. I then put the gun back on the seat and slung the tarp up, under it was a lot of crates. The crates had a big maple leaf on them, these crates were from Canada and in a prohibition era truck.... I then Jumped into the back of the truck and opened a crate, inside were bottles of heavily aged liquors that still had the original packing materials inside. I then got off the truck with a smile, I relit the candle and saw a 1920's Harley Davidson Model D. It had good paint and was half covered by a wool blanket. I then looked over and saw a fancily shaped car under a large yellowing blanket. I pulled the blanket to reveal a 1914 Rolls Royce Silver Ghost, the long lost stolen one. This car was worth billions, whoever owned this house originally had money, and ties. I then saw crates of British Bourbons, and then German Wines. This place was booming in the roaring twenties and had enough liquor to party for the decade after. I then loaded the crates onto the truck, it started raining outside. I then pulled a crate from the top and a large Item clunked me on the head and caused me to drop the priceless alcahol. The alcahol in the case I dropped was ruined, but what was on the ground beside it was even cooler. It was a ceased up 1928 Thompson Sub-machine gun. I tossed the Thopson into the truck. The rain was too hard to continue. I then crawled back out of the window and covered it with a plastic tarp and lots of Duck tape. I then ran back to my '64 Cuda and drove back towards downtown. I then parked in the Garage, I went up to my apartment and slept. Mr. Higgin woke me up the next morning, he said someone was here to see me. It was my brother, he had papers, and he was wearing a blue raincoat. The rain was coming down so hard that it sounded like hail.

Ricky: Hi Jason.
Me (Jason): what do you want.
Ricky: nothing, read these.

He held up a wet manila folder and layed it on the counter, he then walked out. I opened the folder, what was inside made me hate my brother. He was on the goodside of the, goddamn, doctors at the fucking asylum. The Motherfucker banned me from being able to see my sister. I ran down the stairs, he was in his car and starting it. I saw a pipe wrench and grabbed it, I then ran at the vehicle. I swong the pipe wrench and busted the passenger side glass on his piece of shit import car. Then I smashed in his front fender, then bashed in his fuckin' hood. He the spun away from me, I threw the pipe wrench and it busted through his rear glass. I stood and staired at his gleeming tail lights, the rain smashing into me. The water soaked through my cotton shirt and felt like paint balls. I walked back into the building and changed cloathes.

[2200 PM]

I talked to the cops about the disturbance and they just about blamed me until I told them to talk to Crane. They then backed down. I then walked to the garage and opened it, the tires on my Barracuda were slashed, and there were screw driver marks in the paint. They didn't notice my Packard, but the Red Mustang had a baseball bat through the windshield and dents in the door and quarters. I got into the '41 Packard and busted through the wooden garage door and went looking for my brother.