Nasty

• Thomas Tod, Grade 5
• Short Story
• 2007

It was a warm still night. Luciano crept slowly down the cobbled street, squinting in the darkness to find an almost invisible figure. A light in one of the upper apartments of a plaster building flickered on casting a dim light on the figure. Luciano approached him, looking around to make sure they were alone. He exchanged a few quick glances then slipped a 9mm Germen built pistol and packet of drugs into the outstretched hand of the man. A satisfied grin creped onto the mans face then he turned around and left.

It was the morning of the 21 September 2008, the birds were whistling and the usual morning hum of Rome hung in the air as stores opened and tourists bustled the streets in search of a good outdoor café to have breakfast at. What a perfect day for trying to get back at the number 1 person on Luciano’s most hated list, Yassen Kovoskina , thought Luciano as he pushed through a group of American tourists crowding around the Trevi Fountain. He walked on for about half an hour until he reached the place he was looking for. It was Russkiy Vitiaz or Russian Knight the residents of Yassen Kovoskina. Luciano reached into his rucksack and took out his trusty 11mm Italian built hand Gun, a knife, some drugs if it turned out in a different sort well. He looked around, took a large breath then started scaling the marble wall towards an open window at the top. Luciano climbed the wall effortlessly and clambered into what appeared to be Yassen’s stateroom. The room was very grand with its beautiful Oak cupboard containing Yassen’s prized Russian Vodkas and plush maroon sofas.

Luciano crept over to the door. He was just about to open it when he heard the sound of a 4.2L V8 Audi RS4; the car Yassen drives. Luciano dived for the window where he flung himself over the edge firing a few shots at Yassen’s car while he did it. He landed on the roof of the car with a loud BANG! Then rolled off expecting to see a startled Yassen. He saw nothing. Then he heard a familiar voice “Luciano, how nice of you to….well drop in!” Luciano quickly dropped his knife into his shoe; kicked up with his foot sending the knife flying, then sprinted away. As he expected Yassen would have dodged the knife and started chasing him, so he hid on the corner of a back alley pretending to be reading a book. Yassen approached him. “Excuse me sir, have you seen a…” smack Luciano landed a fist right in Yassen’s temple. He fell down unconscious.

A year later Luciano was walking along a street, when he fell down dead, a single bullet wound in his heart.