It Never Rains, It Pours

[NewClassic]

Spring nights are often filled with thunderstorms. My thoughts were much like that, dark clouds rumbling across my thoughts. I sat on the carpet, staring out of my high-rise-apartment's window. Rain pelted the glass, the occasional bolt of lighting arced across the skies. I glanced at my camera from across the room, and tried to forget the miserable photo shoot I had done earlier this morning.

The client was a super model, who had hired me as a small addition to her portfolio. To my knowledge, the shoot had gone well. When all was said and done, I had taken all the pictures she had paid for, and even few more on my good will. She was unhappy with the poses I had told her to do, and wanted more done for her choice. I told her that she had hired me for a specific purpose, and that unless she was going to pay extra for the poses she wanted me to do, then we wouldn't have a deal. I thought I was being perfectly reasonable.

She disagreed.

After three threatening calls, five obscene messages on my answering machine, and two childish prank calls; I eventually stopped answering the phone. I leaned against my wall, and could feel the thunder shaking the very studs in the walls. I didn't feel up to having the lights on, nor did I really want to sit comfortably on the couch. If anything, I wanted my problems to go away.

What I learned then is that problems make house calls.

I glanced at the door, nearly desperate for company. I was tired, annoyed, and wanted someone to talk to. I assumed a neighbor asking for a cup of sugar, or maybe my newspaper. When I opened the door, I almost wanted to slam it closed and go lock myself in the bathroom. Jill, the supermodel from earlier stood in the doorway. She was blond and athletic, and held her height wonderfully. She was very pretty, athletic, and completely empty between the ears. I suppressed my urge to slam the door on her and run. We're both adults, I was sure there was a civil solution for this.

She slapped me, hard across one cheek. I took a step back, tripped a little, and felt a little dazed. “Hi Jill,” I said, wiping at my cheek. I could feel warm blood well up against it. She had cut my cheek with something, maybe a ring? “No need for violence. You probably came here to talk, so let's talk.”

She took two long strides toward me, and slapped me again across the other cheek. I fumbled backward, against the back of my couch, and got up slowly. “That's assault, Jill. I could have you arrested.”

She strode toward me, picked me up by my shirt collar, and stared hard down at me. I'm a small guy, and didn't weigh much. But lifting someone is hard. She must be stronger than I gave her credit for.
“Look, little man. You're going to re-shoot me, or else a few bad things may happen.”

“Right,” I said, shoving her away from me, “like going to court, hiring a lawyer, and getting put away for breaking and entering, assault, and if I suspect right, theft.” I was getting annoyed quick, and I could already feel my snappy nature building.

She caught my collar again, and threw me hard into the carpet. I rolled over and groaned, pulling myself up again. I knew the door was behind me, so I moved toward it while facing Jill. She began again toward me, and I took an apprehensive step away from her. I bumped against something firm behind me, and I turned to see a bull-moose of a man in an immaculate suit. He also picked me up by my shirt collar and threw me out of the door, away from my home and cell phones.

I bounced on the carpet before rolling to a stop in the carpeted hallway outside of my apartment. Jill and the large man stepped out of the door, politely closing the door on their way out. I got up and ran for the stairs. Jill, in heels, opted out of chasing me. The large man, on the other hand, took off after me very quickly. I slammed through the stairwell door and sprinted down the concrete steps with reckless abandon. Before I got halfway down the first flight, I heard the door impact off of the concrete upstairs and large, heavy steps behind me. As soon as I reached the next flight down, I bolted through the exit, and spotted an open elevator door with an elderly woman in it.

I immediately sprinted across the hall for the elevator, yelling “Wait! Hold the elevator!” The elderly lady looked up at me, saw my frantic running, and hurriedly pressed the Close Door button. The elevators had no screens or markings. If I got in the elevator, I'd be home free to go wherever I'd like in the complex, and then get to the alley outside to safety. I strode harder than I've ever run before.

The elevator doors slid closed as I reached them, and found a sudden stop against the stainless steel doors. I rapped my fist in frustration against them, and turned to look for the closest stairwell. As soon as I saw it, I pushed off of the steel doors, and ran for the stairwell. I knew the stairwell I was headed to had an alleyway exit, so I'd be fine if I could just get there. I got halfway down the hall when Jill's large bouncer friend caught up. I felt a meaty hand push me down, and I tripped over my own legs as I fell. I rolled twice, trying to get distance between myself and the ape.

When I got to my feet, a little disoriented, I saw the juicer between me and the stairs. I knew I'd never win a straight fight... Hell, even an unfair fight against that behemoth. I turned as if to run to the stairs, pivoted on the first step, and dove hard to the left to avoid him. He saw what I was doing just late enough for me to get by, but just soon enough to still get a shot in. He clipped my shoulder with a fist harder than I give most people credit for being able to hit, and fell as he tried to turn. I bounced against the wall of the hallway from the impact, felt sharp pains from my shoulder, and hurried toward the stairwell. I was getting hurt faster and faster, and I knew the adrenaline would run out if I stuck around any longer than the next few minutes.

I took the stairs as fast as I could, dropping entire flights at a time, absorbing the impacts with my arms and legs as I scrambled downstairs as quickly as I could. When I got to the second story, huffing with exertion, Jill's rent-a-bouncer had caught up. As I gathered to jump a flight, I felt a fist impact my right bicep. I took the jump, bounced against the jagged concrete wall, and landed unsteadily against the concrete floor inches from the exit leading to the alley. The juicer was already level with me, staring at me with malevolent glee.

I clawed at the floor and got to my feet before he had let me squirm enough. His fists got two short jabs in, then decked me, hard. I wobbled, stumbled, and found myself against the far wall of the room. He advanced on me, and I backed up, cornering myself. He was still a few feet away, so I took the briefest moment to grapple the closest object I could grab. I found a fire extinguisher in my grasp, so I leaned back and threw it as hard as I could at him.

His first reaction was to back up, which I was counting on, and I bolted for the exit, running wide of the red projectile's path. He had backed toward the opposite direction, so I got outside into the alleyway unopposed. I took off toward the street, and stumbled as soon as I hit the sidewalk. Rain was pelting at my eyes, and I was already getting a nice, uniform pain on every muscle on my body. Across the street, at a small diner, two policemen were walking toward their car. When I got to the mouth of the alley, bleeding and bruised, I stumbled a little. The police noticed, and watched me for a moment, unsure of the going-on. The juicer caught up to me, saw the police, and rabbited. The two cops were about to start toward me when Jill came up, unaware of the policemen just across the street, and kicked me in the ribs. My chest flooded with pain, and I rolled away from the kick as best I could. I was laying in a puddle, rain striking my face and clothes. Jill was already on top of me, spiked heel resting painfully at my throat. I gasped for air, but the kick must've robbed my breath.

It didn't take long for the police to have her cuffed and put in the back of a squad car. The EMT had me leaning against a wall, and was poking me in various places, shining lights in my eyes, and asking me questions. After a short series of tests, he said, “You'll be bruised and sore, maybe a bruised rib or two, but you're mostly alright. Don't do any heavy lifting and get lots of rest, and you'll be fine.”
I thanked him, and he took off after telling the police my prognosis. A young officer approached me and got the relevant information, finished his report, and asked me.
“Anything you'd like to add to the report?”
“Not really.” I said, gesturing at the cut on my face from Jill's ring. “Jewelers blow?”
“Alright," the cop said with a chuckle, "the EMT didn't say you needed it, but you want to go to the hospital just in case?”
“Naw,” I said, not needing the medical bill. “Thanks though.”
“Sure thing. Stay outta trouble.” He slid the pen in his pocket, hurried to his squad car, and left me to sit against the brick wall in the rain.

After five minutes, I forced myself to my feet, bone-deep ache in full-force all over. I got inside, hit the elevator button. Once the elevator arrived, I got inside, dripping wet all over the carpet inside and outside of the carpet, punched the sixth floor button, and slumped against the back wall.
When I got back my apartment, I wondered how this evening could've gotten any worse. I tried the door, paused in defeat, and let myself fall over.
“Damn,” I told no one in particular, “I left my keys in the apartment.”

[fruiity toooty]

Rent-a-bouncer. I like that; it made me laugh.

Anyyyyyhoo, I will direct your attention towards

When I opened the door, I almost wanted to slam it closed and go lock myself in the bathroom. Jill, the supermodel from earlier stood in the doorway. She was blond and athletic, and held her height wonderfully. She was very pretty, athletic, and completely empty between the ears. I suppressed my urge to slam the door on her and run. We're both adults, I was sure there was a civil solution for this.

Just a bit of unneeded repetition. Instead of athletic twice, you could have mentioned toned muscles, slim and in-shape, etc. Slam too. Bang. Shut.

It's not a big deal, but a variety of words kind of keeps the reader going, you know? (I also noticed you used obscene again early on in this one.)

Also, I find that I liked this one better than your Flammable When Wet, possibly because the spaces were heavenly, but maybe because the voice seemed more mature to me.

Or maybe it was because the lightning. We all love a little bad weather.

[two_freaky_4u]

"...problems make house calls."
love it!!!

[SunshineIzDivine]

l0l it was great!

[Screaming X Rose]

That was a pretty good one!
So the bad guys don't always win... well. at least half of them don't ;] haha