Post by Charlie 'The Ghost' Rossi on Mar 17, 2018 9:59:32 GMT -5
“The man had a smooth voice, like velvet. “I’m Detective Inspector Me. Unusual name, I know. My family were incredibly
narcissistic. I’m lucky I escaped with any degree of humility at all, to be honest, but then I’ve always managed to exceed expectations. You are Kenny Dunne, are you not?”
“I am.”
“Just a few questions for you, Mr Dunne. Or Kenny. Can I call you Kenny? I feel we’ve become friends these past few seconds. Can I call you Kenny?”
“Sure,” Kenny said, slightly baffled.
“Thank you. Thank you very much. It’s important you feel comfortable around me, Kenny. It’s important we build up a level of trust. That way I’ll catch you completely unprepared when I
suddenly accuse you of murder.”
― Derek Landy, Death Bringer
Confessions of "The Ring Rat Killer"
Charlie "The Ghost" Rossi Chronicles
Journal 23 entry 5th dated: March 17th,2018.
"The day that Nameless Had me Shot"
Cap Rock, or the end of the Great Plains, in northwest Texas then
meanders some eight hundred miles to the Gulf of Mexico. Below
our feet it still had some six hundred to go. He waved the blade of
his pocketknife in a circle in front of him, an extension of his hand.
“Why would you want to put salt on something sweet?”
I shook my head, ran my fingers through her hair. “I’ll be gone
when you get up in the morning. Pedro Morte will fix your breakfast. Get
you to school.” She nodded and didn’t look up. The fishing pole
next to her leaned against the side of the truck bed, its line connected
to a red- and- white bober floating midstream and a piece of
hot dog resting on the bottom. The fish had yet to find it. “I should
be home tomorrow night.”
She shrugged, digging her knife into the wood, marring it. “Can
I go?”
I shook my head.
She looked up. “But I’m old enough.”
The weight of the world lay hidden in her question. “Yes, you are,
but I need some time with her.”
“You always say that.”
“You’re right, I do. But it’s true.”
“When can I see her?”
“I don’t know, Cierra”
“She don’t call much.”
“I know that.”
Her eyes narrowed. “You taking her some flowers?”
Beyond the river, the pasture was dotted with the first of the
bluebonnets. Lupinus texensis. The Texas state flower. Another
month and God would paint the earth blue and the sky red. “Think
I should?”
She nodded.
“Okay. I’ll pick some. Take them down.”
“You get her some for me?”
“Yep.”
I reeled in her line, held it while she fed a worm onto the hook. She
cast farther upstream and set it back against the truck bed.
She returned to her stick.
“Dad?”
“Yes.”
“How much longer does she have?”
I put my hand on her shoulder. Cierra looked away. I tried to speak
quietly. “You should know.”
Again she hung a calendar on the refrigerator. Every morning she’d
mark another “X” then announce the number of days remaining.
“Thirty- five.” She looked up at me. “When she’s done, is she coming
home?”
I pulled her to me, tucking her shoulder under mine. “I don’t
know, CeCe.” The sun slid. Orange bled to crimson.
“Do you want her to?” The world hung in my daughters question.
I squeezed her. I’d never lied to her. “I don’t know.” She cut
deep into her stick. “I don’t know.”
Twenty-four hours Later.....
I-10 westbound. Louisiana in my rear-view. Texas beyond my
hood. The rain had returned. Grape- sized drops pelted the windshield.
I couldn’t see past the end of my wipers. The manila folder
sat on the dash. Yellowed. A coffee stain on top. The weight of the
papers inside drew my eye. Such finality. Two signatures... I could
almost hear the “sign here” tags talking. I shuffled it off to the side.
Wedged down where the windshield met the plastic. But it did little
to dull the conversation. Nothing silenced that.
I slowed, watched my mirrors for lights and mopped off the fog
on the inside of the glass with a dirty T-shirt. I slowed to a crawl,
nearly stopping. I couldn’t see anything. The flowers lay on the seat
next to me. Wilted.
I hadn’t left them.
My mind was distant. The Polaroid stared up at me. I’d taped
it next to the gas gauge. When full, the needle pointed to Cierra's
ice cream–covered face. She was sitting on my shoulders, wearing
my hat, arms raised. She was so proud. My mind was distant—half
of me was driving, and half of me was walking up the front porch
trying to find an answer to Cierra's question. That distance only
partly explained why I bumped the car in front of me. The rest of
the explanation had something to do with it being parked in the
middle of the highway.
I hit my flashers, pulled off to the side, pulled on my slicker and
hat and walked toward the driver’s window. The car was once a
1970s wood- paneled station wagons. Most of the wood was gone.
A woman—young, maybe early- to mid-thirties—climbed out of
the driver’s side as I approached. She was soaked to the skin. A
muffled and tight cough rose out of the backseat.
The driver was tired. Haggard looking. Medium height. Five-eight
or so. Skinny. Light brown, even blond, hair. Faded T-shirt.
Glasses. She wrapped a dirty towel around her shoulders. She
pushed wet hair out of her eyes. Rain dripped off her face. One lens
of her glasses was fogged up and the rain was causing them to slide
forward on her nose. One of the nose-pieces had broken off so they
sat at an awkward angle. She shoved them up with her finger.
She was not happy. The frail looking woman outta know where from
behind her back produced a small black 22 caliber pistol and with a crooked
Cheshire grin she shot me twice in the chest and once in the gut. I
doubled over and hit my knees as my world start to go black. The
woman muttered to me the name Pandora Rossi known in my world as
my estranged daughter that Nameless took. My head swirled
like a tumble weed on a hot Grapevine, Texas summer day I couldn't help
but realize that as the crimson pored out of my body in three holes how much I
would do to kill Nameless for the bounty that he placed on me and the lives of the
Rossi Family.
Charlie "The Ghost" Rossi internalized Monologue
We humans are creatures of habit. And Corey Bull you are nothing special. Your not some
super human with the strength to turn back the hands of time and go back to the way
things use to be. Its just impossible so I suggest you simply fall in line and embrace
the scene that is painted in front of you. Tradition is long past us all by as its the
focus of this business to be able to do more than just a average song and dance
routine. Which I might add I must say your route is a bit to over used. I have had
men play the same tune with me that my friend did a far more better of a job than
you have. Excuse me, but this is become tired some for me . Do me
a favor go back to that black board of yours and collect all your thoughts together
and try and come up with a better plan of action before its become to late.
Anticipation is at its highest peak. People sometimes mention it to be as the
calm before the storm. In this formal manner they begin to wonder what is
to happen. They try to predict the outcome or they begin to formulate a plan so
that there outcome is a positive one. Next, is preparation. Comes time to mentally
prepare yourself. Now you see the game plan is already been put forth. Here and
there you may tweak it a bit but for the better part of it you know your exact point
of impact. Your ready. Or are you? Then you start to second guess yourself as game
time is an hour away. You begin to question yourself and physically you have become
ill. Here you are, now second guessing yourself and weather or not you have done
enough to just get by. Corey, deeper you are in thought the deeper you begin to fall. You have in
ways placed yourself in your own mental prison.
A few hours have passed. Charlie "The Ghost" Rossi is a bit cleaned up and has still the battle
scars from the beating he took at the hands of some of the local rifraff. Nonetheless, he is in
a bit of a brighter mood than we have found him in sometime ago. All alone Rossi is left to
think of the events that have taken him to the current location he is at now. Outside,
his hotel room Ghost looks into the desert air and feels the heat as the nights air remind
him of back home where the climate is similar and just as humid. Ghost pushes himself
to take a walks as he gasps a bit from the bruise that was left on his left side.
You can smell rain in the air before its approach. The air is thick with anticipation. Like the
common saying goes:"Its so thick that you could cut it with a knife." The cracking of lighting
Illuminates the nights sky. A boom goes off. You count to yourself as again the boom sounds
off letting you know that our storm is on its approach. It will be just a short time until the storm
reaches us. A calm before the storm. It will be a clash of titans. On one end will be
unfortunate soul by the name of Corey Bull and on the opposite side of our spectrum is the art of assassination in the
from of Ghost. When life pours down upon your head what will you do? When its to over bearing
and your at a loss. How will you respond? Time is short my friend and actions will be taken against
you. Your words go on deaf ears as your screams will not be heard when my hands are choking the
life from you. What depths will you go in order to face fear?
Fear of the unknown. Fear of not being able to face what reality is. Fear of the lion's den. Fear of
losing. What will you do Corey, when you look into these orbs of blue and see your life flash right before
your eyes. Your surrounded by a most fatal horror that threatens to rob you from the life you have
come a costume to living. I am the man that will forever be known as the very being that stole away
your innocence. Your very naive to think that you can do everything on you own. Reality is cruel and
when it sneaks its head up and smacks you out of the fantasy world you dwell deep in. You will not
walk out with anything in this. If luck will have it just maybe your pride will still be intact come time
at the closing of the bell. From the beginning to the end I will have you number. There is no falling short.
I have come to take what you now posess. Even then it was not in the place of where destiny will have it. But
so soon it will dwell in the house of the invisible warrior of valor.
One man backs away afraid of what might transpire. So, Corey take your turn at the plate.
Here we are with you typical man with a stick stuck up his hind parts. The self indulging
monster that larger in life in statue. You are a counter fit and an unoriginal
one at that. You walk through life thinking that your better than anyone and your pride
is what has gotten you in a position where a man like me with nothing to lose, a bad
attitude and the lust for inflicting bodily harm to any sad soul that crosses my path.
So you make a career decision to end your career in one night when you signed your
names on that contract Corey Bull that put you in front of an animal with a lust for blood. Career
suicide, dead buried to you chest in your own filth called pride. With your pride comes
your fall. So be it that they hand picked you Corey to be fed to a caged animal, a hunter
of sorts. The sooner you realize that your a pimp on the ass of this federation better it
is for you to come to terms with being popped by yours truly.
Life full of regret, remorse and sorrow. A man must go through the valley if he wants to reach for
the height of the mountains. Here and now we are in a time that placement is everything. Were he or
she sits is what its all about. Will it be on the right hand or the left? Will it be man that wins or woman.
Much is left for you to wonder who will sacrifice in order to win. I look into my past and cannot help but
see the future. You know they say its not the size of the dog in the fight but its the size of the fight in the dog.
So, it falls onto even more of not only what will I sacrifice but also the taste of hunger that is on my lips.
Like an animal I was given the taste of that sweet nectarine and from here there is no turning back. I was
given a choice in the beginning to leave this world of shame and live a life full of happiness and satisfaction.
In a ring men and women with fight for the chance of being a name in this business. No simple task will
it be to with standing the punishment, that comes when you are thrown into a den of ravenous animals
but time will tell when a king will split the sea of bodies and take his thrown among the giants of this
business. War is known to have its causalities. But a hunter will submerge as he has in the past a champion.
My name will further be known for the risk of life in order to reach the depth that only the righteous go.
Nothing personal just strictly business.
Charlie "The Ghost" Rossi internalized Monologue
We humans are creatures of habit. And Corey Bull you are nothing special. Your not some
super human with the strength to turn back the hands of time and go back to the way
things use to be. Its just impossible so I suggest you simply fall in line and embrace
the scene that is painted in front of you. Tradition is long past us all by as its the
focus of this business to be able to do more than just a average song and dance
routine. Which I might add I must say your route is a bit to over used. I have had
men play the same tune with me that my friend did a far more better of a job than
you have. Excuse me, but this is become tired some for me . Do me
a favor go back to that black board of yours and collect all your thoughts together
and try and come up with a better plan of action before its become to late.
Anticipation is at its highest peak. People sometimes mention it to be as the
calm before the storm. In this formal manner they begin to wonder what is
to happen. They try to predict the outcome or they begin to formulate a plan so
that there outcome is a positive one. Next, is preparation. Comes time to mentally
prepare yourself. Now you see the game plan is already been put forth. Here and
there you may tweak it a bit but for the better part of it you know your exact point
of impact. Your ready. Or are you? Then you start to second guess yourself as game
time is an hour away. You begin to question yourself and physically you have become
ill. Here you are, now second guessing yourself and weather or not you have done
enough to just get by. Corey, deeper you are in thought the deeper you begin to fall. You have in
ways placed yourself in your own mental prison.
A few hours have passed. Charlie "The Ghost" Rossi is a bit cleaned up and has still the battle
scars from the beating he took at the hands of some of the local rifraff. Nonetheless, he is in
a bit of a brighter mood than we have found him in sometime ago. All alone Rossi is left to
think of the events that have taken him to the current location he is at now. Outside,
his hotel room Ghost looks into the desert air and feels the heat as the nights air remind
him of back home where the climate is similar and just as humid. Ghost pushes himself
to take a walks as he gasps a bit from the bruise that was left on his left side.
You can smell rain in the air before its approach. The air is thick with anticipation. Like the
common saying goes:"Its so thick that you could cut it with a knife." The cracking of lighting
Illuminates the nights sky. A boom goes off. You count to yourself as again the boom sounds
off letting you know that our storm is on its approach. It will be just a short time until the storm
reaches us. A calm before the storm. It will be a clash of titans. On one end will be
unfortunate soul by the name of Corey Bull and on the opposite side of our spectrum is the art of assassination in the
from of Ghost. When life pours down upon your head what will you do? When its to over bearing
and your at a loss. How will you respond? Time is short my friend and actions will be taken against
you. Your words go on deaf ears as your screams will not be heard when my hands are choking the
life from you. What depths will you go in order to face fear?
Fear of the unknown. Fear of not being able to face what reality is. Fear of the lion's den. Fear of
losing. What will you do Corey, when you look into these orbs of blue and see your life flash right before
your eyes. Your surrounded by a most fatal horror that threatens to rob you from the life you have
come a costume to living. I am the man that will forever be known as the very being that stole away
your innocence. Your very naive to think that you can do everything on you own. Reality is cruel and
when it sneaks its head up and smacks you out of the fantasy world you dwell deep in. You will not
walk out with anything in this. If luck will have it just maybe your pride will still be intact come time
at the closing of the bell. From the beginning to the end I will have you number. There is no falling short.
I have come to take what you now posess. Even then it was not in the place of where destiny will have it. But
so soon it will dwell in the house of the invisible warrior of valor.
One man backs away afraid of what might transpire. So, Corey take your turn at the plate.
Here we are with you typical man with a stick stuck up his hind parts. The self indulging
monster that larger in life in statue. You are a counter fit and an unoriginal
one at that. You walk through life thinking that your better than anyone and your pride
is what has gotten you in a position where a man like me with nothing to lose, a bad
attitude and the lust for inflicting bodily harm to any sad soul that crosses my path.
So you make a career decision to end your career in one night when you signed your
names on that contract Corey Bull that put you in front of an animal with a lust for blood. Career
suicide, dead buried to you chest in your own filth called pride. With your pride comes
your fall. So be it that they hand picked you Corey to be fed to a caged animal, a hunter
of sorts. The sooner you realize that your a pimp on the ass of this federation better it
is for you to come to terms with being popped by yours truly.
Life full of regret, remorse and sorrow. A man must go through the valley if he wants to reach for
the height of the mountains. Here and now we are in a time that placement is everything. Were he or
she sits is what its all about. Will it be on the right hand or the left? Will it be man that wins or woman.
Much is left for you to wonder who will sacrifice in order to win. I look into my past and cannot help but
see the future. You know they say its not the size of the dog in the fight but its the size of the fight in the dog.
So, it falls onto even more of not only what will I sacrifice but also the taste of hunger that is on my lips.
Like an animal I was given the taste of that sweet nectarine and from here there is no turning back. I was
given a choice in the beginning to leave this world of shame and live a life full of happiness and satisfaction.
In a ring men and women with fight for the chance of being a name in this business. No simple task will
it be to with standing the punishment, that comes when you are thrown into a den of ravenous animals
but time will tell when a king will split the sea of bodies and take his thrown among the giants of this
business. War is known to have its causalities. But a hunter will submerge as he has in the past a champion.
My name will further be known for the risk of life in order to reach the depth that only the righteous go.
Nothing personal just strictly business.