#2 Sinnerman

I was a cop. The kind people wondered weather they were bad or just mean. I helped the Russians sell what they had, and loaned myself off to them for some extra cash. I called it a living for a few years. Then I got caught. 10 Kilos in my trunk. I was getting sloppier the more fed I got, and I should have seen it coming. I lost the badge, and bargained no-time for some information on the Russians. Bad move. When they found out I snitched, I ran. I tried hiding under every old rock I knew. No one would hide me. I was a snitch, and all the good time charlies didn’t want to put their neck out for a snitch. I couldn’t blame them, so I just kept running. Tried to get help from the ol’ cop buddies. The ones who didn’t spit in my face, were the ones who laughed in it. I cried out for help and not a one to help me.

When I heard the door bust open that night, I wasn’t surprised. They beat me with a chain, and put a pick in my eye. Last thing I heard was the chain dragging along the floor, and a whisper in my ear. “You oughta been prayin’ “

And now here I am. I remember someone telling me Hell is your past mistakes, your “sin”. Let me tell you about Hell, it’s more than just your sin, it’s someone rubbing your sin in your face as they lie and tell you you have a chance at redemption.

So for me, Hell is a Police Station, and my penance for a life as cowardly schnook is being an enforcer of the damned. Someone runs out out of hell without paying their tab, it’s my job to tie them up, and bring them back on down. And if someone ain’t dyin’ on their own, I gotta help them find their way. Usually with a chain, and sometimes with an ice pick. And worse to worst, I gotta do it dressed like I’m a bloody mascot.

It’s a hell of a living.

Category: 2011, Superhero