Prohibition

Prohibition description

They were all dead. The last shot put a fat point in this story. I removed the finger from the trigger, it was over.

To understand what happened to me and to all of organized crime in Chicago, I have to think back three hours ago, at the very moment when the windy City greeted us with a morning dawn, and his criminal organization has met its sunset.

How do you start the day that will change your destiny once and for all? Often it starts bad. My “fateful” day was no exception. It all started with the fact that I woke up in my apartment. That's what happens when I drink too much of something good, but the horror of the situation was that last night I went to bed being of sound mind and completely sober. The opening continued to scare, because I woke up in a strange bed and being tied to a chair and fully clothed. And left me in this position right in front of a wide window, which gets bright, dry and a bad morning light. In horror I began to look around, expecting something very scary. In the small room, in addition to Your submissive and bound servants, stood a large wooden box and a small table on which lay two envelopes: a blue and a red. Unusual colors are still envelopes has caused me an involuntary smile, which almost immediately turned into a horrible grimace, when I saw standing in the corner a rifle...

For what? Why? Why? Who? Somewhere deep in the subconscious, I asked myself these questions, but my super-consciousness only wanted to be free and get out of here. And here was another discovery: the shackles that tied me up, was tightened very slightly. Literally so, so I didn't fall in her sleep from the chair and not lay on the floor in some funny pose. Fear gave way to confusion. I easily freed from the ropes and was able to finally climb out of this infernal piece of furniture.

Maybe it's some kind of joke? But no I have no family, no friends that would have me as a prank. It may then draw yesterday launched a radio show “Hidden microphone”? The panic changed to confusion. Fear gave way to curiosity. I approached the table on which lay two familiar envelopes. Blue was written “open me first”, and red was written “And I will then”.

I had nothing to lose.

In the blue envelope was a letter in which was written the following:

“Hello. We would like to apologize for the fact that without your permission removed your person from your apartment and taken away in an unknown direction. We also apologize for the fact that without your knowledge you dressed in civilian clothes. Now let's get to it.

In recent years, Chicago has seriously worsened the criminal situation. Mafia is immortal, all-powerful and invincible. Reforms and increased funding for law enforcement agencies has led to anything, but not to the reduction of crime.

We decided to use the latest and therefore the most radical means - you. In the years of service in the army, you have shown the best results in shooting rifles. And despite the fact that it was relatively long, we firmly believe that you, as nobody will be able to put an end to the rampant crime in our beloved city.

You have no choice. You can try to escape, but our people are closely watching you, and at the first attempt to escape you will be destroyed. You can try to tell you about our little evil “Ecumenical” conspiracy people, but we will deny everything. And in this case, you also will not live long.

In the Kingdom of the blind the one-eyed man is king. And you are certainly not pull even one-eyed.

But not to finish this letter on a sad note, we responsibly swear that if you follow our requirement, we have very generous reward. Trust our word.

The rifle in the corner, in the box are bullets. Good luck.

PS: once you shoot on the street all the gangsters, don't forget to read the letter from the red envelope.”.

I ripped the letter, but that I felt lighter. Every word, every letter of it pulsed in my head, like a sharp steel needle. I closed my hands over his face and sat on the same damn chair from which it all began. I thought about what happened to me, and what will happen to me. It seemed that in these meditations an eternity. But I decided, I decided. Rising from a chair, I picked up the rifle, loaded it with ammo and opened the window.

I had nothing to lose.

The slums of Chicago fell silent in anticipation of the event. Dogs stopped barking, and in the stinking slums the air stopped flying flies.

First the killed gangster was the happiest of all his brethren, because he was not destined to learn about what kind of chaos will plunge the Chicago slums. After the first shot all the gangsters in the district hiding in the nooks and crannies of the city. I could only find them through his telescopic sight.

The gangsters were out of their shelters, trying to aim at my window. They were hiding behind the Windows, behind cars, behind fences, on roofs. The masters, the gangsters prefer to hide in manholes. Fortunately, my sixth sense was developed from childhood, and it is like a road sign, told me where will be the next bandit. The most unscrupulous, mean and just nasty gangsters covered themselves with women, believing that I'm partial to the fairer sex. They were wrong. Wrong not in the sense that I care about women (even opposite!), and in the sense that I may falter hand. Those bastards, I clearly was aiming for the head and with particular gusto spread their narrow-minded skulls into small pieces.

The weapon I got extremely nasty. Tolley was shot down in sight, or omitted something, but the bullets often do not hit the target, even if I do restore sight. Bad job conspirators, bad. Sometimes happened so that I was unable to find or neutralize the following gangster, and in these cases, I was hiding under the window sill, giving the bandits to shoot your clips.

From the side it might seem that the establishment of order in the slums of Chicago was some calm, measured way. I was shooting at the gangsters. The gangsters were shooting at me. But they only died. During all this action in my head for no reason began to play a relaxed and fun tune that quite fit seamlessly into what is happening. It was fun - it's a fact.

Finally, the shooting stopped and the streets came the deathly silence. In the slums of Chicago there is not one gangster. Of course, if you don't count the dead, who lay everywhere.

I put Charlene on the table (at the time of the massacre I gave your rifle a name, and indeed very much became friends with her). On such a long shooting its trunk is very strongly heated up and turned a dark purple... how she was beautiful!

Picking up the red envelope, I mentally prepared myself for the fact that I will have to wait for another lengthy letter. But I was wrong. In this letter was only one line: “247, Technocracy street, room 237, Boss.”.

Perhaps, today, its absurdities, absurdity and madness drove me mad, but I calmly reacted to this letter. I picked up Charlene and headed outside. Going to the in a letter home, I thought about thousands of things at once. About how I suddenly became a cold-blooded killer. That my life isn't worth a penny. About how I'll be out trying to explain that I had nothing to lose.

And, indeed, I had nothing to lose.

Entering the building, I hurricane raced to the room in which sat the godfather of the Chicago mafia. After I put two seconds past the two guards, I left the boss alone.

He didn't ask, he pleaded, he promised. He understood that this room will be alive only one of us. I was holding Charlene, he was holding a Revolver. We were both silent. We had nothing to say to each other. We were both victims of the evil little “universal” plot. And it does not matter who was right and who was wrong. In this room at this moment not acted any laws - neither earthly nor heavenly. I looked at him, he looked to the side. He was afraid to look me in the eye, as we understand that in this moment the silence is interrupted by gunshots. But, he decided, and looked me in the eye. In our eyes we saw death...

...his death.

They were all dead. The last shot put a fat point in this story. I removed the finger from the trigger, it was over.

And really - it was all over. Out on the street, I suddenly blew fresh and a nice breeze, somewhere in the distance started to meowing cats and barking dogs, and the air again started to fly flies. Never morning in Chicago was not so great!

Gangster past countless bodies lying on the street, slowly and majestically rode the police car. I put Charlene on the ground. Yes, we could make something work out, but we had one little problem: I'm a man, she's a rifle. We were too different.

Police decided not to arrest me. They just slowed down around me and gave me a graceful black case. I squatted down and opened the suitcase. Inside was a fresh, little green portraits of presidents, who looked at me with his wise and kind eyes. Standing at full height, I looked after leaving a mysterious car. He left as the winner.

And the winners were two.

Have you ever wondered what kind of video games were played in the good old days? Try playing Prohibition online now and we are sure you will not stop playing again.

Source: Archive.org, Mobygames.com