Abuse of Chikara (book 1) Read Online Free PDF Page A

or kill for money, not to mention being in the films spread the fear and notoriety of their gangs. Of course, the Mexican government did not like them, but the right payments to the right people took care of that. His violent films were well-known in Mexico, but something of an underground sensation in the United States of America. His fans had started calling him “Nick the producer” or simply just the producer. Many saw his films as works of art, and some were just excited to be watching something taboo by many. Nick was, however, getting a bit bored shooting in the same locations in Mexico, China and parts of Africa. He really wanted to shoot something in the United States, but it would not be so easy to get away with there. Certain elements in the American government was crooked, but not as corrupt as the places he shot at; and even gobs of cash wouldn't erase the risk of prison if caught. That is what enticed him about shooting there, the threat of being caught. Nick gets the same feeling from shooting his films that people had when having sex in public or tagging buildings with graffiti and other similar activates. Nick was not the type of person that looked like he did such things to other people. He was five-foot, 11-inches tall with an athletic build and a face that looked like anybody. The fact that most people could not recall what he looked like had worked to his favor a number of times in the past though.
    Psycho is walking to the closest cemetery in the area thinking about his past life in Mexico. He was a teenage hit man in Mexico and called loco boy for some time until they finally started calling him Psycho Boy. His signature was cutting off people’s heads. Some people were kidnapped by the cartels, doped up on drugs, and forced into becoming teenage hit men. Psycho had sought them out and joined them willingly. He enjoyed getting high and killing people. Cutting off heads was a fun job in his opinion. Killing his abusive adopted father had awakened a joy in him that he never knew existed. Perhaps abusing others was only perpetuating the cycle of violence, or perhaps it was his way of getting back at his adoptive father somehow. He did not just cut off the heads, though; he often kept some of them and talked to them about a number of topics of the day. It was not unusual to see him talking to a head about politics, religion, the war on drugs or any number of personal problems. If you kept organs refrigerated properly, they could be maintained for a good amount of time.
    As Josh handed him a joint, he snapped out of his reflections of the past and remembered where he was. The local cemetery was one of his favorite places to unwind with his friend Josh. They had got drunk here a number of times and even fucked prostitutes here a few times. Psycho believed that people lingered around their graves for three days before leaving this earth. When they got high, he would often see people rising out of their graves. The spirits would be of all races, creeds and colors; Psycho was not a racist guy and would hang with any of them. Some of his best nights had been spent smoking weed and drinking with various spirits here. He did refuse to give any of the children alcohol or drugs, though, no point in stunting their growth even if they were dead.
    Josh looks at Psycho and sees his somewhat depressed expression. “What’s wrong dude you seem kind of down today?”
    “Man, Bill’s been talking about the new superintendent that’s taking over, and I do not like what I'm hearing. This person sounds like some Dudley Do-Right type of motherfucker who is pure as the driven snow. Bill thinks this guy’s going to try and clamp down on guys like us for sure as an example to the others to get in line or else.”
    “Why not just get a job doing something else, bro?” Josh asks.
    “Man, a guy like me doesn't really fit in doing too much else to be honest, Josh. I thought about going back into the military, but I would