Jack's Twisted Kingdom
Memoirs of Jack
Jack looked up from the candy counter at the quick mart, the girl at the
cash was bored and lolled her head to one side preening over her nails.
She wasn't a good looking girl, perhaps 17 or 18, blond hair poofed out
in the same exagerated fashion most girls of the MTV generation had like
limpid copies of madonna or whomever was popular. She didn't pay Jack much
mind until he'd been staring down for nigh on 10 minutes. Then she poked
her head up and squeeked out in a rather blase tone "you gonna buy anything?,
cause if you're not kid, you have to leave." If Jack was anything he was
stubborn, he'd been watching the girl in the mirror, and as soon as she
sat back down he snatched a chocolate bar and had it up his sleeve quite
quickly. He looked at her, staring at her, when she looked back up, he
walked out of the store. He could feel her eyes scorching out the back
of his head, but he was confident enough that he'd not been caught. It
was the second time he'd done it, and he was ecstatic. He wandered home
a quick 10 minute walk from the quick mart eating away at the chocolate
bar he'd so deftly, or so he thought, had stolen. It wouldn't be the
last time he stole from the quick mart, and over the next few years, it
wouldn't be his last.
Jack was bored, and after having gotten a job working in a call centre
he often would look out from his cubicle and watch the cars drive around
the intersection. He worked on the 18th floor of a high rise, the sterile
enviornment often made him want to spray paint the walls pink. He sometimes
imagined what would happen if he pushed hard enough on the glass and wondered
how many casualties he'd inflict on the unsuspecting populace below.
Jack wasn't callous, but there were times when his own pent up rage would
often lead to homicidal thoughts. The best way he found to vent those
impulses was to go out and liberate something.
It never really mattered what is was.
It wasn't about glory, it wasn't even the thrill of it anymore, it wasn't
about the thing itself. It wasn't about the money. It was about The Money.
The money, was the means to the end, not the end in itself. It always would
be, and he tried to supress those impulses at times. But always, Jack would
be drawn back down the dark road.
Jack had some pretty odd friends, one of whom he'd known for years, since he
moved out, and ended up in a foster home at the age of 15. The guy, Norman, was
what Jack would call, "The best friend, a loser could ever have, and be able
to manipulate him into doing anything for him. Wether the friend knew it or
not.", Jack was intolerant of most people. He had a deep respect for those who
would stand up to him, or at the very least, showed intelligence, if there
was one thing he valued most, it was that. Norman was a bit of an enigma, he'd
been shuffled in and out of foster homes with his 2 sisters since he was 9. A
few years previously his sister had been murdered by a pedophile out on parole,
and his other sister had some serious brain damage. At least, thats what Jack
always thought, he knew the truth, but it amused him to no end, that his best
friend in the whole world, was smarter than the rest of his family. Unfortunately
for Norman, he wasn't smart enough to see that Jack would eventually lead him
down a path he'd never recover from.
Jack was sitting in the rear seat of the train as it moved off from the landing.
He'd been in Germany 2 days now, and he was apprehensive about the whole thing,
he hated the idea of having come to europe by himself, but no one else would
come with him, and he didn't want his parents or really close friends to know.
Well, that wasn't true, he wanted some of them to come, but didn't trust any of
them to keep thier mouths shut. He'd been in europe for nearly 3 weeks, landing
in London, and eventually making his way towards Rome on the eurorail pass he'd
bought several months earlier. He was already running out of money, he had a mere
2000 US left in his travel pouch, and only 4000 canadian in his account. It wouldn't
last much longer the way he kept spending money. He'd come with close to $40,000 and
now he was almost broke. He'd been in Amsterdam, for two days and spent over $5000 on 3 of
the most expensive Call Girls he could find, and at the last moment while he watched them
play with each other, he chickened out. Terrified of catching some disease, he opted
out, paying them for their time, and then he ran out of his hotel room.
In the alley way, he threw up his lunch and all the expensive wine he'd been drinking in
the $500US a night room he'd rented. He was furious, and he started to talk to himself as
he was often wont to do, it was a bad habit, and he'd been trying to kick it. He kicked
over a garbage can, pissed off with himself for having no courage to go through with
debauchery he so invisioned the months preceeding the journey there. He wondered for a
brief moment if he ran back up if he could do it, then he talked himself out of it.
There was no point. Although the arousing thought of the 3 tall, lean, slavic women,
fucking his brains out was nothing to shrug at, he really lacked the guts to go through
with it. He'd always regret that moment, but sometimes in retrospect, he would often think
to himself, that had he done so, it would no longer be a fantasy. What's life with a good
fantasy? This question often plagued him, what was the point of doing something, or dreaming
about doing something, when you've done it? Some would call it stupid, some called a mere
act of cowardice, and some even would say to Jack eventually, "You're a wise man.", although
Jack would scoff at that notion. Him? Wise? Please.
Jack walked to the nearest smoke filled cafe, ordered a glass of coke and vodka and spent
the next 2 hours wondering if the girls were still in his room. Fortunately in his jacket
he had all his money, and he'd had the forethought to snatch his travel pack. When he
got back to the room, only 1 of the girls remained, she was his height, brunette, green
eyes, small breasted, and athletic. Her name was Asgok or something strange and befitting
this norway beauty, she spoke broken english, but enough to talk to him. Jack kissed her,
and even made out with her, but he couldn't bring hiself to fuck her, so he sent her packing.
He'd always wondered how many guys she'd slept with before, and would after she left the room.
Not that it mattered. He took a shower, and fell asleep, he dreamed of naked women.
Jack was alot things. He could do anything he put his mind to, and often
he did things that he himself, wasn't particularly proud of. But he'd never
look back on them and say "Sorry.", that simply wasn't his way of thinking.
It was his opinion, that if people got in the way, so be it, there were
often warned ahead of time. Some never heeded Jack's advice, nor did they
listen to him often, he was a bit too subtle with some of the things he
said and did. His favorite quote, "It's easier to kill a man, than threaten
to do so.", was often lauded as nothing more than Jack trying to sound
intelligent. When Jack beat Nathan black and blue with a tire iron, for stealing
from him, no one laughed anymore, the joke it seemed, had grown tired. That
Jack's favorite movie about Nihilism, Fight Club, was an inspiration to him
and his newly found sense of self worth, made it all worth while. Nathan would
always remember how long he spent in the hospital, and Jack whispering into his
ear as he lay there in screaming pain, "Some things, never change Nathan. But
this, this is what happens when you fuck with me. I told you, I warned you not
to do it, but you never listened. Remember this, and believe this if nothing
else, I can find you anytime, anywhere. Don't look over your shoulder thinking
that this will happen again. Look over your shoulder knowing that it will if I
hear your name again." Jack pulled himself off Nathan, kicked him in the ribs
once more, Nathan spit up more blood, crying and trying not to think about the
pain. He wondered if Jack was finished, he'd never seen Jack so angry, never
imagined that Jack would ever do such a thing, and wondered if he'd survive
if he ever said it was Jack who'd done this to him. Nathan opted for the lie,
when the cops came and questioned him, it probably saved his life. Nathan never
again commited a crime, Jack beat out the criminal in him, white colar crime was
one thing, facing Jack, was something he'd never do again.
It can be a long time, you can achieve alot in 19 seconds if you set your mind to
something, some task. You could fuck your girlfriend, make a bowl of cereal, get in a
car and open the garage door and speed away, you could even rob a house in 19 seconds.
19 seconds was all it took for Jack to scan and inventory all the contents of a house.
19 seconds was enough time for Jack to make a mental map of the layout of a house. Jack
could discern and remember days later where the coat rack was, the pair of shoes you never
wore except to parties, the jacket shoved in the closet weeks ago during the rain that
hadn't been moved since, and he could tell where you threw your keys and wallet. He could
estimate the amount of steps it would take and how long his strides would have to be to scale
the stairs leading up to the main foyer. He could tell you how long it would take him to
break the window beside the door, unlock it and be inside.
19 seconds was a life time for Jack.
Jack could remember the christmas tree in the corner, the couch, the low table sitting an
angle, the small stereo under the tv with the dvd player, all 3 of which he wouldn't touch
because they weren't worth anything. He could remember the kitchen, the cramped space, the
sink on the right, the stove to the left, the salt shaker on the counter. He could remember
the door leading out of the kitchen, he could even remember the cupboards and how they were
laid out. Jack, had a mind for details, he couldn't tell you what the counter tops were made
of, nor the doors, nor the furnature. But he could tell if the painting on the wall was
worth anything, how much he could get for the cd's, the dvd's, the jewelry he would sneak a
peak at while no one was watching. He'd conned himself into a job at a high brow art gallery,
and in less than 2 weeks, he'd obsconded with over $30,000 in art work. He got a job working
at warehouse that regularly got shipments in of high priced electronics, a month later, several
pallates worth disappeared and he'd made a fortune.
Jack, was never satisfied, and almost always bored. He always looked for excitement, and rarely
did he find it, except when he was pulling a job. He was a renaisance man, he knew a little about
alot of things, he made it his hobby, to learn about everything that would set him up for his
next job. He was relentless in his persuit.
Jasmin, a Sociopath and her paramour.
"Jasmine," Jack half whispered, almost mumbling, "Your such an exquisite whore." as
he bit down hard on her collar bone. She responded with a moaning whisper "fuck me,
damn you, fuck me. Oh, OH, don't, harder, fuck me harder." and dug her nails into Jack's
back. She was a scratcher, and she liked being bitten, she loved it when Jack would
sink his teeth into her, and use her like a peice of meat. She wasn't a whore, at least
not the typical ones you might meet at a party who's slept with half the people there.
Jasmine was born to a white american father who would abuse her from the time she was 12,
til her 17th birthday, which also happened to be the last night he did. She killed him when
he finished and rolled off of her, "did you like that daddy?", sweetly from her sanguine
colored lips, her father responded in heaving gasps, "Of course, you're my girl." When
the cops found him naked in her bed with 56 stab wounds still choking on his own blood,
the only thing she said to them was "He bought me a pretty dolly.". one of the cops,
couldn't hold his lunch, the other did nothing but stare.
Jasmine's mother was born in a small village outside Kuala Lumpur, while not particularly
well off, her parents had managed to send her Queens University to get a decent education.
Her mother was a mousy little thing, she constantly wore a parka during all year round,
no matter what the temperature, no one was ever able to figure it out. She largely ignored her
husbands excess's, and often left the house whenever Jasmine came home after school. As far
as she was concerned, so long as her rich white husband kept buying her and jasmine jewelry
he could do what ever he wanted to. There was an unspoken agreement between the 3, or at least
anyone from the outside would have thought.
If anything, Jasmine could be very aptly described as Jack so often did, "She's got the body
of a super model, the face thats seen more years than most, and the mind of a half starved
rat in a corner fighting to get out.", and he was often being nice about it. Jasmine used sex
as a weapon, she'd learned at the age of 13, that she could get her father to do anything so
long as she let him have sex with her. She watched a movie called lolita, and decided that
with the exception of getting pregnant by some nobody, she would embody everthing that Lolita
had. By the time she was 22, and had been let out of the institution she'd been sent to for
killing her father, she's slept with every male doctor, half the nursing staff, male and female,
and every security guard. If she'd stayed, she could have run the place, but she had ambitions.
At the age of 27, she'd been married twice, both times for money, and both of her husbands ended
up dying, one from a heart attack, and the other from accidental drowning. No one who knew her,
believed for a second, that either were accidents. She was vicious, cunning, and knew exactly
how to get what she wanted, but then, she found Jack. Or perhaps it was the other way around,
niether particularly knew, nor cared. The first time they fucked was in an elevator in a posh
hotel, where the elevators took forever to climb the 35 stories to the ambasador suite. Drunk
and particularly disorderly, they continued to fuck in the hallway, all the way to Jacks room.
Jack could disarm most people simply by putting the truth of things in front of people. Jasmine
could rape a man or woman, at 50 yards, and make them believe they were the ones raping her, taking
advantage of her, using her, and discarding her without a thought. They complimented each other
Jack had a way with some people, he could read them very fast. He could tell within 5 minutes
just how much success he'd have with conning them out of thier hard earned money, and what it
would take to earn thier trust. He also read body language, although he often bragged about it
and would then purposefully make mistakes. People often forgot about his claims, and then
simply walked around in complete ignorance. Jack loved toying with people, at times he thought
there was no point, and would occasionally just use, abuse, cheat, lie and manipulate without
even trying to soften the blow. More often than not, no one could match him in his exploitative
needs, wants or desires, except Jasmine.
She was a black widow, who for some reason couldn't get past Jack. Jack saw right through her.
and it unnerved her, scared her, and elated her. She got aroused from the very scent of Jack's
cologne, even if it was days old from a shirt she'd stolen from his laundry pile. She was nuts,
and even Jack was wary of her.
Linus & Garret, dumb enough to be dangerous
Pulling up into the back lane, of the clothing store, Jack quickly scanned
the perimeter, looking for any sign of life, "Garret, get the door open and
take our guest into the back office." Jack said quickly. Garret, a massive
man, weighing in at over 300lbs, at 6'6" towered over Jack, and grabbed the
store manager from the back seat. Thier guest was bound and gagged except for
his feet so he could walk, dried blood covered his forhead and the black eye
he sported looked more painful than it was. "Lock Code, or I beat you down
again whitey." Garret snarled through his lips. Martin complied by punching
in the numbers, the alarm shut off, and blinked 2am. Garret shoved the little
man into the office, and tied him down tightly. Jack grabbed his tools from
the trunk, and handed a large duffle bag to Linus, "Get to work on the wall,
we have 27 hours to get this done." Jack told him as he got back into the car
to move it a block away. Linus quickly moved the tools into the store and
got to work on the south wall. One would think there would be alot of noise,
but across the street, a construction site was going 24 hours a day, and no
would notice a little extra noise coming from across the street. Jack came back
to the store, and looked around the store, he'd been in there several times
before, having scoped it out a few times over the past two weeks.
The idea, was to drill through the wall, into the jewelry store next door,
he'd been in there a 2 months before, applying for a job, during the interview
he planted 2 small minature camera's in the store. one in the vent near the office
when he "accidentally" spilled coffee on himself and part of the floor,
and one in the managers office while the distraction was fresh, along with an audio
mic. He later went for the stores building plans at city hall, and took out all of
them for the whole block and the surrounding one as well, so as not to draw suspicion.
The weakest link in the whole place, had actually been Wall safe, it had been put up
against the far back wall of the jewelry store, which could be accessed from the
posh clothing store, which just happened to be closed on sunday's. While Linus
and Garret worked on ripping the wall down, Jack was putting on a new suit. He
had the manager, who at this point was nearly catatonic after 5 hours of being
beaten by Garret, open the safe. A Weeks worth of reciepts, a nice haul of close
to $40,000.00, of which he gave to Garret and Linus. They worked cheap, which was
good, but he often wondered what would happen if either decided to get angry with
Jack, fortunately, he never found out. When they finally tore the back wall down
after 7 hours of slow and steady work, pulling out the stonework, and getting a
clear view, Lunis started torching the back of the safe. If he did it too fast,
they might start a fire in the safe and damage any paper money, if they did it
too slow, they'd get caught when someone came in for thier shift monday morning.
It was long, and boring work, Jack had brought food for Linus and Garret, and
even a few cheap beers. By 5am monday morning, they cracked the back of the safe
open, and Jack emptied out the safe and gave the paper money that hadn't been
blacked to the pair.
Jack, made off with a 1/4 million in diamonds, and $10,000 in cash, between the
boys, they made close to $60,000. They spent 2 hours cleaning up, and removing
most of the traces of thier presence, the clothing store manager was still
bound and gagged with the blind fold over his head when the cops arrived 2 hours
Jack, for the most part, worked alone, but when he needed a crew he could
always rely on two mentally dimished rednecks, Linus and Garret. Jack never
liked being violent, he thought it was the mark of an unintelligent man. On
those rare occasions when Jack needed muscle, and some heads knocked in, he
always called the pair of brothers, they had a special way about them. Usually
ultra violent, blood splattering mayhem fell in thier wake. How they never
managed to land in jail, was something Jack often speculated on. Of course,
he tended to forget the question while he winced when watching them beat a
pair of patrol cops into coma's.
Garret was born with fetal alcohol syndrome, in a reserve in South Dakota. It
was a nice little place if you thought alchohol and gambling were the way of
life for them, instead of the typical bear, coyote and rabbit hunters his
ancestors had once been. Garret met Linus, the whitest redneck you could ever
imagine while Garret was stealing a truckload of wheels. The same truckload of
wheels Linus was trying to steal. When a security gaurd showed up, they looked
at each other, and then proceeded to beat the gaurd badly. After which they
took the semi load, split it in half, and had a couple of beers, they'd been
friend ever since.
Linus, was the biggest drunk, you ever met, he wasn't a stupid man, at least,
not in comparison to the average person who made it to grade 10, and then dropped out.
He worked in his fathers garage and when the business failed, they moved into a trailer
park. After a year of bouncing around from job to job, he finally found something he
was good at, chopping cars down and selling them to auto shops around the city.
Adventures in Carjacking
Mondays. Everyone hates mondays, when they work a 9 to 5 job, slogging at
some white colar over beaurocratic mish mash of hypocracy and the stale air
the breathe in, that was often injected into the bland white offices.
For Michael, it was about to be his worst monday ever, even Black Monday,
the day the markets crashed didn't quite make it as high as this did on his
list of "absolute worst fucking days of my life.", and that, was an achievement.
At the crack of dawn, Michael got up, had his latte from his $6000 Cappucino machine,
and his $85 a bag espresso beans, and ground them in his $1400 gold plated bean grinder.
He got into his new Porshe boxster that still had the dealership tag logo on
the passengerside wheel well, because he'd not gotten around to actually looking
at his car from more than the drivers side. That, and everyone assumed he knew,
who was going to tell the boss, there was a tag sticking out? No one, thats who.
Jack had insomnia. Jack had been awake for 3 straight days, and tried everything,
from fucking a pair of underaged hookers from the bronx, to downing 9 tylenol.
Nothing worked. The sleeping pills he bought off the weed dealer were skittles,
when he found the little fucker, he beat him senseless, took the little mans weed,
money, watch and a nice swiss army knife. He ditched the Peace Symbol charm on the
key ring, slamming it at the punk bleeding on the sidewalk, spitting out, "What?
you think I wouldn't find out? And what is it with these fucking hippy kids? You
wake up one day, saying, I'll sell weed and maybe con a guy into buying skittles?"
Jack kicked the kid once more, "Dumbass, get a clue, buy a vowel. Peace sign? Please".
Eventually, he got home, rolled 7 joints, smoked 1 and finally passed out. 2 hours
later, Jack woke up, and he was mad.
Michael was about to make the worst mistake of his life. Michael, had road rage, he
was talking on his cel phone to his assistant who for the 8th time this week was
about to burst into tears. If he didn't pay obscenely well, and if she didn't need
a good reference, she'd have quit, but getting canned was the sure fire way to success
in the Ad Exec business, and she was close to the top. He passed through a tunnel, and
the line gave out, Michael, furious, threw his phone out of the car, and it landed inside
of Jacks passenger side. Jack, confused, panicked and slammed on the break's, and ran his
newly stolen Jeep into the side of the embankment. Jack hit his head, and the honking
he heard from the other people behind him, suddenly turned jack into a raging machine.
He sped up after the porche, and managed to cut Michael off and forced him onto an off
ramp, when he stopped, Jack got out of his car, and they started yelling at each other.
Which was when Jack pulled out his Beretta 92r, the black oily barrel slicked
up into Michaels open mouth........................................
The music was blaring, it was a true cacophony of sound, Jack could
feel the beat of the drums as they slammed down each time. Boom. Boom.
Boom. Boom. The pluck of the strings, the sound of the horns, the shrill
of the Mesmer machine richocheting around the room, the pulse of the
crowd. The bands name was Devotchka, some eurotrash eclectic indie band
that happened to be playing tonight. If you looked, you might think that
he was listening intently on the band as they played, you could see his
eyes glued on the stage, his foot slightly tapping to the beat, a slight
sway of his shoulders, the flick of his tongue edging towards the lip
of the Vodka martini Jack was sipping, ever so slowly. If you thought that.
You'd be dead wrong. He zoned out, slightly lost in his own head, carving
out a plan within a plan, re-organising the structure of a deal he was about
to commit to, and completely aware of his surroundings.
Jonah had been standing beside him for nearly 10 minutes before Jack even
bothered to acknowledge his presence. He mearly leaned his head over, and
raised his eyebrow to the tall man, who seemed to be waiting his turn at a
bank, he was fidgeting, annoyed, and impatient. Jack would like to have kicked
him to the curb, but today, he needed the idiot. Well, that wasn't true, Jonah
was niether an idiot, nor did Jack need him, Jack had a plan, and Jack, wanted
a patsy in case it fell apart.
Jack's number 1 philosphy; Always have a way out, theres no such as being too
Jack's number 1 philosophy rarely worked out the way Jack wanted it to. That in
the left corner of the bar there were two plainsclothes cops who'd been trailing
Jack for a month didn't concern him. Unlike TV and Movie, police detectives didn't
become buddies with the bad guys, didn't bring them down for a chat to scare them
off. This wasn't Law and Order, and fortunately for Jack, he was better than they
were. Now, understand, Jack was a smart man, but when you're faced with 10 smart
men of the same degree of intelligence, the 1 lone smart man is going down. Jack
wasn't going down tonight. Jonah was about to take Jacks place as the mouse, while
Jack slipped out the back door and rode his new Triumph back to his motel.
New Years Eve, 1996
It was a fresh powder day, the white glistening snow was
nearly blinding as the sun was rising. Jack could see the
tree's down the slopes waving and rocking gently to the side
as people skied down, as he snowboarded into a rock he had
wondered if he shouldn't have taken up skiing. Jack flipped
over and landed on his back, knocking the wind out of him
and cracking his board. His ankle was sprained and it hurt
like a bitch. This wasnt' good.
Valentines Day, 1997
It had taken Jack nearly a month and a half to heal up his
ankle and he could walk, not well, but with a slight limp.
This he thought to himself was a good thing. He managed to
limp his way past a security guard who should have been
paying more attention his back, than the crutches Jack was
swinging on. He had learned very quickly that people tended
to ignore you if you seemed injured. So when Jack hopped into
the back room of the grocery store to the washroom, no one
thought for a second to check if he'd gone up to the office
and installed the video camera's closest to the safe.
Jack sat in his apt watching the manager open the safe about
3 dozen times, and he kept notes about what days and times
the safe was opened, and he noticed the days where the most
amount of money was dropped. On Valentines day, the biggest
day of the year for this particular store, he'd formulated
a plan. He knew he could get to the managers office and into
the safe in 43 seconds. He could open the safe and dump all the
money into it, in 25 seconds, and get out the back door in 15
seconds. His plan was perfect. Now all he needed was a distraction.
The part he needed played was nealy performed by a pair of junkies.
He bought them some heroine off thier dealer in exchange for thier
assistance. He then played hide and go seek in the grocery store.
When the two Junkies started a fight with the security guard, Jack
went to the washroom, and pulled the fire alarm on his way in. It
took Jack 2 minutes to get into the safe, take all the money, and get
out the back door, where his car was had been parked 3 hours before.
For 3 weeks worth of planning, and $200 in junk, he'd made of with
close to $60,000.00, he wasnt complaning.
Now for the real job.