Blogtober Challenge 30: The Revenge of Jimmy Bulger

DISCLAIMER: Spoilers ahead.

He was staring at the lime green Hallmark card in his hand. It had a caricaturic photo of two boys walking proudly beside each other. The top had a message that was in white san serif letters. It read “To my best brother.” He sighed and opened it up to read the pre-typed “Happy Birthday!” message. He already wrote his brother’s name on the top and had already signed the bottom with his own.

Jimmy growled in frustration as he crumpled the card in his hand and threw it to the side. It bounced off the wall and fell to the carpeted floor with not even a thud. He was still wondering why he was still writing cards. It was eight years since he last spoke to Billy. Ever since he went to hiding, he had this idiotic plan to send Billy a birthday card. That meant sending said card to Billy’s home address. That meant giving away his location. As of date, that lime green card was the eighth that he killed.

He doubted that Billy would want to have anything to do with him anyway. His life was destroyed because of him. Jimmy recalled a young Billy telling him that he will eventually become President of the United States. He recalled telling Billy that he will do everything to make sure that comes true.

Jimmy moved away from the window of his dingy Guam apartment and sat on the moldy couch with a heavy flop. Billy was the only good in his life left and he destroyed that too.

After eighth years, it was his first time to ask himself if it was all worth it.

“What do you think?”

Jimmy quickly whirled his head to the voice in his ear. No one was there. He stood up and looked behind the couch. No one.

His aged eyes narrowed menacingly. No one has attempted to cross his path ever since his hiding. Some stupid kid decided it was a fun to break in an old man’s house and play a prank on him.

‘Bad luck, kid. You messed with the wrong old man.’ He thought to himself as he scanned his surroundings for any shadow or movement. Jimmy cautiously reached under the couch and pulled out the loaded handgun from it. It already had a muffler screwed on it.

Jimmy’s steps were silent as he moved away from the couch. Bare feet grazed the carpet while sharp eyes were staring ahead. He moved to the bedroom like a shadow while he, too, searched for his intruder. Towards the bathroom, he saw a shadow move then disappeared. His rotten teeth revealed themselves through his triumphant grin. The intruder was cornered.

His armed hand moved ahead of him while he quickened his pace yet kept them silent. He grinned once he was at the bathroom doorway, planning to be his intruder’s happy sender before he pulls the trigger.

Jimmy’s smile disappeared.

No one was there. His shoulders slumped and his face fell before going inside. He leaned against the sink before placing his gun down the side of it.

He stared at his tired face in the mirror. Must be all that guilt trip that he was feeling that was making him see and hear things. Then again, that sandwich that he had for dinner was a bit too sour for his liking.

Turning on the tap, he lowered his face and splashed it with water. The towel was nearby so he grabbed it and wiped his face dry before looking back at the mirror.

He thought he would have a heart attack. John Connolly was at his bathroom doorway. Jimmy whirled around and saw no one. Rapid steps followed as he rushed out of the bathroom to his bedroom.

John was sitting cross-legged on his bed. He wore a plain  jacket over a white shirt and worn jeans were on his feet. On his feet were the dirtiest pair of slippers that Jimmy had ever seen. Jimmy thought that he was shabby with his gray shirt and sweatpants. At least, they were new.

John smirked a bit a his old friend. “How are things, Jimmy?” he greeted.

Jimmy gave out a sigh to show that he was relaxed but he was not. For all he knew, John wanted to kill him. He silently cursed himself for leaving the gun on the sink.

“You scared the f*cking daylights out of me, John.” Jimmy warned to him.

John raised his hands in defense.

“Didn’t mean nothing. J’est wanted ter surprise you, Jimmy.” He answered back rather sheepishly. It reminded Jimmy of how John was always submissive to him. If he was still that guy then there was nothing to worry about.

Jimmy smiled at him and opened his arms for a hug, waiting for John to stand and hug him back. John did stand but that was it.

“I only have a few minutes, Jimmy. I escaped prison, see?” He stated seriously.

Jimmy lowered his arms and his expression turned grim once more.

“What the f*ck are you doing here and how the f*ck you know where the f*ck I am?” He demanded, spit splashing out of his mouth as he did so.

“They know where you are, Jimmy. They will find you. I suggest you get on with being sorry for everything before it’s too late.” John answered melancholically.

Jimmy’s rage grew with every word that he said.

“Why? Were you sorry? Did you regret standing the f*ck up for me?!” He snarled as he took a step forward.

John shook his head. “Nah. Of course not. But you should. Cause when they find you then they won’t be so nice. Billy is not there to protect you. You destroyed him.” His voice was calm and low the whole time.

“How f*cking dare you speak to me like that?! Don’t act so f*cking angelic! You are as f*cking guilty!” Jimmy lunged forward with his hands aiming for John’s neck. John disappeared before his very eyes and he fell into the bed.

Jimmy turned and looked around frantically for the man. John was at the living room now.

“Repent, Jimmy. For Billy’s sake.”

“You don’t f*cking tell me how to care for my brother!” Jimmy yelled as he scrambled out of bed. He raced towards the bathroom and grabbed his gun before rushing back out and towards the living room.

“Come out, John! Where the f*ck are you?!” He called out in rage with his handgun pointed towards the walls as he looked around.

A cold chill blew past Jimmy, making him turn to see the window wide open. He ran immediately towards it and looked at the fire escape for John. He looked up. Nothing. He looked down. Nothing.

Jimmy closed the window and went another round around his apartment just to make sure that motherf*cker is gone.

“F*ck him. When I get my hands on him….” He mumbled angrily to himself before sitting back down on the couch and reaching for his remote. He switched on the TV and flipped through the channels to watch the news. Even criminals watch the news. How else would they know if the police is on to them?

The news channel was showcasing a feature on some animal shelter at the nearby city. Jimmy’s attention was not on the gleeful puppies ready for adoption. A cold sweat fell down from his receding hairline. His face paled and his mouth was suddenly dry. His eyes could not leave the screen as he read the running news sidebar.

“John Connolly, notorious con and right-hand to FBI’s Most Wanted Jimmy Bulger, murdered in prison earlier today.”

This is my first time to write a horror story. Forgive the lack of thrill.


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