A Film Noir story... (Full Version)

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wulfgarw -> A Film Noir story... (6/12/2008 12:23:09 AM)

Ok, here'e the deal.  A thread in which someone begins a story , and the others on the community adds the next piece of the story.  I've had good sucess with it in other boards, and hoping it will work well here with all of these creative and devious minds.  And in the spirit of deviousness, I propose a Film Noir type story (Maltese Falcon, Marloe, et al). in which deviousness is a way of life.  As long it fits within the theme of the story, pretty much anything goes.

The rain pours down on the darkened city, pooling on sidewalks and in the street where lifted oil slicks reflect a rainbow multitude of erratically flickering neon signs peddling their wares.  A lone rattling taxicab trolls down the street looking for the late night fare.  Gusts of wind blows loose garbage around, a rolling soda can disturbs the silence left in the wake of the cab, a newspaper sweeps along the ground under the awning of a building.  Dogs bark and thunder rumbles in the distance.  The smell of mud, refuse and the sharp smell of rain permeates everywhere.  The man in the alleyway turns up the collar on his topcoat, pulls his hat down low.  Digging in his pockets for several moments, he finally produces a pack of cheap cigarrettes and his lucky zippo lighter.  He lights one up, pulls up his fallen collar, and peers out onto the abandoned street...

Your turn, folks!




ResidentSadist -> RE: A Film Noir story... (6/12/2008 3:45:12 AM)

He lights one up, pulls up his fallen collar, and peers out onto the abandoned street as he starts walking.  The raindrops glowing under the streetlamps remind him of his home long ago in the UK.  He remembers when he first came to the U.S. as a boy.  His mother had been in the hippie free sex scene and got pregnant at an early age.  When he was age 10, she sent him to the U.S. to live with his uncle.  However, when he arrived, there was no uncle to greet him.  The authorities tried to contact his family to no avail and his mother had mysteriously vanished.  He was soon processed and raised in a state home for wayward boys where he learned his trade. 

His distain for his own family misadventures were a constant reminder when he heard his surname.  It was this constant reminder and his fond memories of his youth that inspired him to change his last name as an adult.  He was Eric London, a detective for the city of New Orleans.  Walking further, he finally arrives at his destination. 

”Eric… over here” comes a voice from the ally.  Sure enough, there was his crew processing the crime scene.  Another mysterious death of an American Indian.  There had been a string of them lately in the French Quarter.  Examining the body reveals it too has been drained of blood like the others.  Shriveled and laying there with the belt buckle undone just outside the back door to the Royal Orleans bar, Eric thinks to himself, here lays victim number 7. 

Eric says, ”Damn the rain, we have got to step on it and wrap this up.  Has he got ID on him?”  …




Asherdelampyr -> RE: A Film Noir story... (6/12/2008 3:50:21 AM)

”Eric… over here” comes a voice from the ally.  Sure enough, there was his crew processing the crime scene.  Another mysterious death of an American Indian.  There had been a string of them lately in the French Quarter.  Examining the body reveals it too has been drained of blood like the others.  Shriveled and laying there with the belt buckle undone just outside the back door to the Royal Orleans bar, Eric thinks to himself, here lays victim number 7. 

Eric says, ”Damn the rain, we have got to step on it and wrap this up.  Has he got ID on him?

The coroner checks his pockets, but comes up empty. Bending over the body Eric notices 2 distinct smells, cheap scotch and sage... thinking "what an odd combination" he reaches into the victim's inside coat pocket to check for any sign of who this man was in life, then pulls away quickly...

"What is the problem?" Robert, the coroner asks,
"I could have sworn I just felt his heart beat"

Suddenly, the "body" rises up, gasping deeply

Eric wasnt sure whether to reach for his badge, gun, or both...




pinksugarsub -> RE: A Film Noir story... (6/12/2008 5:12:51 AM)

The coroner and his assistant arrive in their official vehicle.  As they open the car doors and step out, Eric notices the assistant is new.  Not Tom, with his usual coffee-stained shirt.  A dame.

Interested, Eric watches her as she moves towards the alley.  Tall and thin, with red hair that glows in the street lights, he cannot make out much of her figure under her overcoat.

The coroner leans over the body and begins his examination.

"Something new with this one, Eric", he says.




wulfgarw -> RE: A Film Noir story... (6/12/2008 1:32:45 PM)

Bump.




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