Marcus. Chapter 1. Passed out in cold water.
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Marcus. A tale of friendship, courage, deception and strife. Oh and also old ladies. Chapter 1. Passed out in cold water.
This is the story of my 1st and now only grandson, Marcus Polo. A tale of friendship, courage, deception and strife. Oh and also old ladies. Marcus was only 7 years old on the night that it all started. 21 days before his birthday. Seems as Marcus was going to be 8 this year his parents felt he was old enough to start choosing his own path in life, so they have allowed him to pick his own present. They give him a month to choose and tell him to choose wisely as this would be the most amount of money hes ever been responsable for spending. Marcus wasn't sure if this was some kind of trick his parents was playing to see how good he was with money or if he could get what he really wanted, either way the excitement takes over and he develops a bad habit of not sleeping. Night after night after night, he would not be able to sleep. The T.2.700, the evidence tracer collection pad, hair and nail storage pal, magnifying cubes, my first detective starter’s kit, the list is endless. What he really wanted, but had no doubt his parents would absolutely refuse was a Void Black 6 shooter. 1st or 2nd model would be fine, just not the 3rd which was terribly unreliable, and a fiery furry sidekick in the form of a feline, which he would want to name Babe.
What are 7 year old boys doing at night if they are not sleeping? They are sneaking, sneaking around in the kitchen. Every night Marcus could not help himself. He would wait till around 2am when his parents were sure to be asleep, he would slip down stairs and acquire 2 strawberries and a tiny hand of cream. Thinking if he had taken more his mother would realize and he would be in some serious trouble. What Marcus did not know was that his mother and father did not even like strawberry’s or cream and that they were brought only for him, they kept trying to tell him this but somthing as outlandish as not liking strawberrys and cream wouldn't sink into Marcus's head. As he finishes licking the last bit of cream from the palm of his hand this night, the cold wind's of fear swirl up his spine. RING! RING!, RING! RING! The phone upstairs was.... ringing.