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2024-10-29 19:42:56The names Gregg, Gregg Burnsfield. I guess you could call this a memoire of sorts, an acknowledgement of my life or don't call it anything at all and just sit there, shut your mouth and read. Obviously by writing this, you know any story I tell here on in, even if death finally gets her cold hands around my scrawny little neck, I managed to survive long enough to get all this down on paper. Everyone thinks that Hell is a fictional place but I know that to be untrue because I was already there; Hampton, Virginia. This city is nothing more than a gathering place for old, rich, white people living out their pointless lives and passing judgment on the rest of us for trying to live our own.
My mental state wasn't always this…hostile or abrasive I guess you could call it, but being born here, having grown up here as a little kid, raised here, and knowing my death was probably gonna happen here, happy thoughts and rainbows just weren't for me. My parents were born here and still occupy this lovely little speck on the ground town. We have a few 7-11s, a Wal-Mart and Target, so step the fuck back; we're doing it big here. I never noticed these little idiosyncrasies until my world came crashing down around me. We'll get to that shortly.
Being a Police Officer, a.k.a. LEO, was always a dream of mine since first discovering the show 'Cops'. The day after graduating high school the paperwork for my application was already fully inked up and submitted. The Newport News Police Department (NNPD) accepted me and I've worked for the city for over 6 years. They used to call me stick because I was tall, slender and frankly, I looked fucking sickly. My partner also called me Buckwheat (for no particular reason), which hit a nerve every time those words came out of his fat fucking mouth. All that changed as soon as my shrink put me on my anti-d's on my 20th birthday.
I've grown a fucking gut, like a 'can't see my dick' gut, she's called 'one-pack'. If I try exceptionally hard, I can tighten my abdominals so much that it makes one solid, powerful, round force field of muscle enveloped by an inch or two of fatty tissue. You can't fuck with that unless you were to punch it moderately hard or run from me, I'll never catch you if it turns into a footrace. Some people enjoy running, this guy though, not so much. Basically, my body is housing a thirty-five pound fetus and my vagina hasn't matured enough to strain it out. I don't have the attention span for running or exercise, A.D.H.D. gets me every god damned time.
Alright, alright, enough about how fucking sexy I am. Let's get to the beginning and figure out why I feel this is a notable story. I don't waste time, never have really but this is something you'll read and never be able to get out of your mind. Every time you blink, that split second of darkness will be like a slide show of horror and pain of which I call my life.
Just a word of warning, this literary work is not fiction and will include numerous government secrets. I may be lacking the permission to do so but when do we ever really need permission to do anything. It's easier to ask for forgiveness than it is to ask for permission. Some things the President himself didn't know about; actually, most of it the President didn't know about. Our operation was seen as an independent organization unless we were called upon by someone for our…talents, you could say.
Enjoy!
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The Burnsfield Project Chapter 2
It's one in the morning, sitting on the side of the road. The rain is gently coating the windshield just enough so you are stuck between the 1 speed and 2 speed settings on the wiper activation switch as you drive. I hate that shit. Seriously, the tediousness of the world drives my mind loony. You would think that car companies would realize the inconvenience this causes to its drivers and fix that shit. Just give me a 1.5 speed selection on the wiper switch. The blades either rhythmically dry hump across my windshield because they are going too fast or it gets to the point that I can see because they are going too slow.The street is damp, the oil and grease from every damn beat up piece of shit car that drives down it covering the asphalt. The rain pulls the grime to the surface and lets it fester in the open for the entire world to see. Shit, I wish it was blood, my blood, filling the street so I could just drop off the face
The Burnsfield Project Chapter 3
Waking up was a disappointment; waking up with the worst headache in the history of human society, just the cherry on top of a big shit cake. Why is the sun so bright, where the fuck am I? The room is all white, bed, sheets, chair, curtains; shit the fucking television is white. Secluded in a desolate room, beaten to shit, excellent."Beep, Bomp, Beep, Bomp, Beep, Bomp…" Rotating my head as far as I could before the brace caught and then it became all too clear, the monitors and the IVs and all that jazz. All I can hear is the "Beep, Bomp," of the monitor, nothing but "Beep, Bomp, Beep, Bomp, Beep, Bomp, Beep, Bomp."…with every chime from the machines, time seemed to skate by. The reality was, time was barely ticking away. Second by second.That smell, that taste, the remnants of that fleshy dick in my mouth. What the fuck happened to me, when is someone going to acknowledge me? With all this fuc
The Burnsfield Project Chapter 4
Contemplating what was to come, I crossed the street without even looking for cars. Upon reaching the sidewalk, it was obvious that the main door to the apartment complex had been torn from its hinges and some profane racial slurs had ever so delicately spray painted across the concrete leading to the entrance.I don't understand peoples' fascination with destruction. I don't understand why people are still hung up on racism. I guess it's beyond my meager little mind. I'm white, some people are black, and some are Hispanic…so on and so on. What's the big fucking deal?Now that was the only positive aspect to my childhood. I learned that people are people. You don't have to be a minority to do stupid or horrible things; you just have to be a stupid and misguided person to accomplish them. Every night it's the TV and I because it entertains me, seeing crazy white people secretly boycotting racial groups,
The Burnsfield Project Chapter 5
I sit straight up from a dead sleep, like they do in the movies when there victim is stuck in a horrible flashback dream."Fucking shit! God dammit! This fucking cell phone!" Apparently when you plug your cell phone in so that it can charge and act as an alarm for you, the other end of the wire needs to be plugged into the motherfucking wall.The sunlight was shining in through the window, the yellowish fungus growing on the window pane made the sunlight almost green as it struck my swollen face and the disgusting floor Holly and I shared last night. Oh shit, Holly!I look to my right and then to my left, where the fuck was this chick? I don't have anything to worth any money, she couldn't have taken off. Could she?Flush. The bathroom door opens and out walks Holly, still fully nude underneath that coat I had so chivalrously provided for her last night. "Damn, you scared me, I…I tho
The Burnsfield Project Chapter 6
Beeeeeeep. "I need to see Debra." Mills speaks to the beep. I assume he had a button to push or there was some sort of sensor that activated the beep. I hear the starting of something electrical, a motor or something of the sort.Instant butterflies now. The hood has enhanced my sense of nervousness but also my sense of feel. We are going down…on an elevator. "Ahh, an underground lair, huh? Is this some sort of super hero league hideout? Sweet!" I was being as sarcastic as I could be; I just wanted to be personally addressed right now by anyone.This elevator was traveling down forever, or so it seemed. I've been on elevators that have traveled fifty floors in about three minutes; we've been moving for at least five minutes. The elevator begins to apply its brakes, slowly. We come to a complete stop and nothing happens. Where's the sound of the door opening? Where's the bee
The Burnsfield Project Chapter 7
Speech has escaped me, "Uhhh…yeah…err…that's, that's John. My old partner." I shuffle over to John as Mills smacks him awake."Oww man! What the shit was that for? Jesus, I'm a fucking cop motherfucker!" Obviously, John hasn't realized being a cop down here didn't mean shit. The he turns and sees me, "Gregg, Gregg what is this man? Get me out of here man!"Mills steps back, walks to the table and sets his knife and gun on it then exits the room. I scan the room; there are no obvious cameras, no signs restricting any sort of action. Am I supposed to kill him? Seriously? Is that what the gun and knife were left in here for?John is incessantly pleading to me, calling out to me to rescue him from this room. I never wanted to hear this fat fucks voice again in my life. I never wanted to see his fat ass face again. He was the one responsible for this situation I'm
The Burnsfield Project Chapter 8
She hikes her skirt up, inside out over her stomach and she removes her shirt. I must be the luckiest guy in the world. She turns around, exposing her tight body to me as she proceeds to remove the skirt.Whenever she is looking my direction, I maintain strict eye contact. I want to be professional but I am a man. I couldn’t help but to get an erection right now. I tried but no one can control blood flow mentally.She grabs the obvious bulge in my pants and drops to her knees.&n
The Burnsfield Project Chapter 10
I opened the bathroom door with a feeling of empowerment, authority. In my mind, this is just another catalyst in my life, one that I will conquer. Mills and the boys were not at their desks anymore. The entire place was quiet, too quiet.Starting from the farthest part of the room the banks of lights begin to shut off. The darkness is creeping towards me, like it has always done. Darkness is scary but it's actually emotional darkness that I fear the most.Now, I'm standing in between the bathroom and The Boss's office, yet to move a muscle. If something was going to happen then it was going to have to come to me, I stayed put. The fact I was in the dark merely strengthened my remaining senses.I could smell something, something like corn chips or nasty ass feet. My skin was ultra-sensitive, like a radar device scanning all surrounding areas around me for any sort of approach or movement. My ears felt a
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- The Burnsfield Project
Chapter 40
Back in our lair, I informed Holly and Mills of my next moves, "Listen up, I'm going to go call the President and let him know that Jeffrey Dahmer, aka The Milwaukee Monster, has passed away from an unknown illness. I'm going to ask the President what he would like me to do as a replacement. After all that is said and done, I'm going to get my old Sarge on the horn and see what we had to do to get him to come down here and hang with us, lead us. Any exception or suggestions to this?"Mills spoke up first, "Gregg, we don't need another leader. We want you to be the leader of this group. You can call your buddy, but know that when you call him you need to ask him to come join the team, not lead it."Holly followed with, "I understand what you're saying Gregg. I get it. You are our leader, no matter who you bring down here; you are the leader of K.U.N.T."I hugged both of them and a
- The Burnsfield Project
Chapter 38
Danny spent the night in medical so waking him with games and noises wasn't happening. Today was going to be the first true test of our skills down here. We go head to head with THE Susan Wilhelm. Its five o'clock in the morning, couldn't sleep, my nerves got the best of me throughout the night. "Wake up Danny." A gentle shove seemed appropriate.Danny sat straight up as if I were the monster in his nightmare he just couldn't seem to run fast enough to get away from. He looked literally like a large piece of shit that could breathe and talk. Little does he know, after Wilhelm falls, he will too, by my hands."Get to my office, you have three minutes." I instructed.He hadn't spoken a word to me, I didn't get a good morning, I didn't get a fuck you, nothing. That pissed me off the most. He was still trying t
- The Burnsfield Project
Chapter 37
I check the monitor looking into the Obama room early in the morning. Danny is sound asleep on his cot and to me that is unacceptable. I hit the alarm button for the Obama room only, the interior speakers. Never have I seen a grown man, athlete or not, jump as high as Danny did.The mike was open so I could whisper sweet nothings in his ear or bark orders, whatever I want to do. Danny can obviously tell that the mike is open, judging by his hand signals and confused look.I was just fucking with him but all I said was "Flush time. Sorry big bro, we have Wilhelm on her way down right now. You're an unneeded liability to the K.U.N.T. team down here."Didn't take my elder to understand that message as he frantically scanned the room for anything of merit to grasp on to or anything to keep the floor from opening up and swallowing him whole. There wasn't anything in that room to
- The Burnsfield Project
Chapter 36
Entering my office opened my eyes to the same exact mansion I was in when this bitch molested me. Three floors, eight bedrooms and three full bathrooms. Danny should be able to pinpoint the exact location and time Ms. Wilhelm will be in which area so we can go in and let B.T.K. and I have some fun."Holly, go wake up Danny for me please." I asked nicely.Holly exited my office without a word and hastily headed in the direction of the medical area. While she was out getting Danny, I pulled a jar out from my desk drawer. In said jar was Danny's pinkie in formaldehyde, which I placed as my center piece on my desk. Just to remind him who he was dealing with and how little I cared for him.I leaned back in my chair, the familiar squeak barking off like I expected, as I awaited my evil big brother to surface from the confines of the medical room. His face makes me throw up in my
- The Burnsfield Project
Chapter 35
As I rested in the bed lying on my back, I couldn't quite slip into that sleep state. I couldn't keep my mind from wondering and plotting our potential plan to get Wilhelm. I HAD to have Danny because I had a deep feeling that he and Susan were more than just acquaintances. I was very confident that he was fucking her, yeah she was old and decrepit but I just knew he was fucking her.People will fuck over anything, especially guys. You want power, find the powerful chick to fuck, you want money, find the rich chick and fuck her. It's really the most classic tale of treachery, kill the king but you gotta fuck the queen first.I jumped up out of bed, still in my boxers, hair all a mess, and proceeded towards Jeffrey's cell to check on my traitorous brother and his new found friend Jeffrey. My mind was racing, hoping that he had been slowly disassembled like a cheap G.I. Joe and eaten leisurely wh
- The Burnsfield Project
Chapter 33
Holly rolled in the advanced polygraph test machine we had. This machine was capable of not only capturing the change in pulse rate and anxiety during a false answer but it was also capable of detecting nonstandard eye movement or ticks on ones face during an untruthful answer. This machine also didn't require a yes or no answer, the response could be a paragraph if the tested wants to provide that much detail. The machine could remember and access all that information from weeks ago.Danny and I sat down at the metal table in the middle of the room. The presidential rooms were always used during poly tests because they had literally no stimuli at all. Once Holly set up the machine, she would leave the room too, can't be too safe.I took the finger pulse indicator and the chest bar pulse indicator and installed them appropriately. The retinal camera took very subtle changes but alignment wasn't hard
- The Burnsfield Project
Chapter 32
I don't know what the hell kind of shot Holly gave me but apparently I've been out for two full days. My body is stiff and rigid, as if rigor had begun to set in. My brain felt like it had just been poured out of a crusty ass frying pan after being scrambled for too long. I felt around on my body trying to identify any sore or damaged spots that still existed. To my surprise, my body was basically good as new.I inch my way out of bed, almost like the bed was applying resistance because it wanted me to stay longer. Every joint my body had was now cracking and popping like baby gun shots being fired off for no reason in rapid succession. Once on my feet, I do the usual hardcore stretch, neck, back and shoulder. Pop, pop, pop.There is a nice suit and clean under garments waiting for me, hanging nicely on the back of the door along with a manila folder. I head to the bathroom to shit,
- The Burnsfield Project
Chapter 31
I wake up to the television flashing a news story about four dead cops, three dead bodies in a house that was currently burning to the ground and a dozen witness accounts of four people on the scene "waging war on the neighborhood". The remote control was taped to one hand and my morphine drip taped to the other. I quickly tap the drip three times, feeling an instant gratifying rush of narcotics in my veins.I flip the television on with a quick flick of the wrist. Four dead officers, I used to be an officer. That could have been me on the side of the road, executed by a secret government agency out killing people to protect the political scheme of things.The randomness and spontaneity of the colors and pictures began to relax me instead of my normal anxiety overload. I zoned out, out from the television and the news. I zoned deep into my brain trying to understand why my life has boiled down to kil
- The Burnsfield Project
Chapter 30
The large plane came in for the landing with a resounding swoosh sound. As we touched down the compression of the shocks on the plane caused all of our necks to snap a little bit but Jeffrey was fine in the truck, actually it was kind of bouncy for him.As the plane came to rest on the tarmac, the cargo door was opened and the lights were shut off on our end of the strip. We would move out in silence, quickly but silently. We all three manned our vehicles and eased out of the plane. My Tahoe scrapped the tarmac hard as we exited, unsettling Jeffrey a bit. Our three trucks formed a convoy of pure fearful ass kicking power. We exited the practically abandoned air strip and proceeded towards Jeremy's house, about 12 miles away. We entered the highway nose to tail, exceeding one hundred miles per hour. I was the lead so my lights were flashing and the rest were blacked out, even their headli