The tusk gang


The documents you are about to read are extremely confidential; only the police chief and the science department are authorized to view them. The documents you are going to read were personally written by General Blue, head of the local police department. Please do not make any kind of copies or disclosures.




Animal city police department, date 06/15/2022, 5:00 p.m.


As soon as communications with our private officers, sent into the field to investigate the Tusk matter, broke down, the entire police department mobilized, reaching the location indicated by their gps. I personally made sure to mobilize our best officers and doctors, but when we arrived at the designated location, all we found were dead bodies. By god, I still remember the sickening smell of piss and blood that hovered inside that room, not to mention the stench of the victims' feet soaked in sweat and blood. What we saw looked like something straight out of a horror movie: bodies of criminals full of holes, blood on every visible wall, and immense expanses of piss and blood inside the whole room. I would gladly give up my post as general to forget that grotesque scene. However, I was the first to burst into the room, clutching tightly in my hands my trusty 9-caliber beretta. She has been my lifeline for countless cases, and to think that it was actually Investigator Mary who gave it to me for my birthday. Back to us, with my gun clutched in my hands I burst into the room without too much difficulty, as most of the doors were riddled with bullets and the hinges destroyed. Before I could reach the bodies of my colleagues, both of whom are very dear friends of mine, the doctors and I had to explore most of the building. The room where the bodies were located was on the third floor of this huge abandoned structure once used as a hospital. The elevators were out of order and there was no electricity, fortunately though, it was daytime so sunlight was enough. After every single flight of stairs, the spectacle only got more and more grotesque and vomitous. The staircase leading to the top floor was the hardest to climb because every step was flooded with gallons and gallons of yellowish blood. Finally reaching the top floor, things became more complicated. Some of Tusk's henchmen, though dying, still retained their fighting spirit. When I stepped onto the third floor, one of the henchmen still alive shot me in the shoulder. Fortunately, my reflexes were and still are very good, so I was able to dodge the shot. There was nothing I could do to avoid killing him. I hid behind a corner and took aim, granting eternal rest to that criminal scum. Before advancing the doctors, I made sure that was the last asshole still alive. In those five bloody minutes it took me to clear the floor, all my mind could think about was that soon the time would come when I would be forced to see the bodies of my comrades. I had explored every room in that damn building except one. The door in question was the one at the end of the hallway, which was also completely destroyed. There was no need even to break it down, partly because there was practically nothing left. The hinges were still hanging there, although they were in very poor condition, as for the door, more than half of it had been decimated. But the real nightmare began when I entered the room. The dead bodies of the gangsters were so many that it was impossible to count them. I fortunately was used to witnessing such scenarios, but those poor doctors who had come with me were not. That being the last room, I began searching like a desperate man for the bodies of my comrades, digging with my bare hands the endless mountains of corpses that were there. Caught up in a rush of pure rage, I dug and dug, moving every single body of those bloody, hairy-footed, blood-covered bastards. Dear God, if I just think back to those moments, I feel disgust. The doctors who were with me couldn't even set foot inside the room because of the disgusting smell there, and I don't blame them. Had I been in their place, I would have done the exact same thing. I kept digging and digging, until I found what I was looking for. Under that mountain of horrible smelly feet, I saw the body of my colleague Mary with her fat chest filled with so many holes it looked like a slice of Emmental. The first thing I did was to check her pulse, trying desperately to feel even one measly pulse. As soon as the doctors saw me clutching Mary's body in my arms, they immediately charged in. I helped them lift the lifeless body and place it on the stretcher. It was only when Mary was laid down and illuminated by the little light that lit that remote room that I could see her eyes, once emerald green, turned white. Despite my despair and sadness, I composed myself and launched myself at the charge of Steve, our other agent. It took me a full hour to move all those bodies, but there was no trace of him. My stupid mind immediately thought that he might still be alive, that somehow he might have escaped, but then I turned on the gps I had in my pocket and saw that his chip indicated that he was in the room, but where? WHERE???? I began to wander like a desperate man, following the signal of that damn gps to every corner of the room, under the wooden desk in the center, behind the damn curtains, but nothing. I thought I had gone crazy, the doctors had already left with Mary, and I was looking for a grain of sand in a desert. Now that my sanity was fading, the smell of death hovering in the room seemed to have intensified. I no longer understood anything, my vision was slowly disappearing, but I could not abandon my mission, I had to find Steve's body at the cost of spending the whole day in that graveyard of bloody feet. Another hour passed, and I decided to take a break. From the pocket of my demin jeans I pulled out a packet of Lucky Strikes, noticing that there was only one left positioned upside down. When I saw it, the words of Steve came back to my mind:


<< Hey man, I'm going on that Tusk mission today. From the reports it looks like a very complicated thing, and I won't deny that I have a bad feeling about it >>


<< Don't say that Steve, you're one of the best agents our agency has available, I'm sure you'll come back alive. Besides, how would I live without seeing your filthy feet again? Ahhahah >>


We both burst out laughing. I remember his smile, his cheerfulness and, most of all, his big, sweaty feet. Although Steve looked like only a stupid, fat, smartly dressed raccoon, he was an animal with a heart of gold, always ready to give his all as well to defend the weakest. Just the thought that his corpse is here somewhere fills my heart with anguish. After drinking copious amounts of alcohol, Steve and I went outside the club to smoke a cigarette. Like me, he smoked Lucky Strikes. I had forgotten the pack at home that day, so I asked Steve if he could give me one. When he opened the pack and I saw that one of the cigarettes was turned inside out, I asked him:


<< Why did you turn the cigarette upside down? >>


<< Oh, this you say? Well, have you ever heard the story behind Lucky Strikes? >>


I of course answered no. My overly stressful job had never given me a chance to delve into these kinds of stories, but Steve loved to study anything from the most mundane to the most serious


<< Well, as the name says, the last cigarette is the "lucky hit." These were the soldiers' cigarettes. With every kill, they smoked one cigarette but one. The one on the contrary was the lucky shot, and it was smoked only on important occasions, like the return home or the last kill >>


I was fascinated by that story, and I loved seeing Steve's face concentrate as he told his anecdotes. The thing that made me laugh the most about him was how his feet seemed to perform movements similar to an octopus twitching. Steve, having finished his story, turned to me with his usual dumbfounded grin plastered on his face and said:


<< I have decided that I will take my lucky shot tomorrow night with you and Mary here at the bar, perhaps with a cold beer in my hands >>


I looked at him with the eyes of a child admiring his superhero while giving him a pep talk.


<< All right Steve, meet me here tomorrow night all three of us, Of course, the bill will be all yours >>


<< Ahahahhaha, you sure are stingy >>


Now that I think back to his laugh, his happy look, all I can think about is how unfair life can be. Despite the sadness I feel, just the thought that Steve died with a smile, knowing that his sacrifice saved the lives of many innocent people, only makes me feel at peace with myself.


<< Wherever you are my friend, I dedicate this cigarette to you >>


In honor of Steve, I decided to take my Lucky strike and smoke it, hoping that in heaven, my friend is watching me. As the smoke from the cigarette penetrates inside my lungs and calms my synapses, the image of the radio with which I was communicating with the two officers resurfaces in my mind.


<< It must have recorded the whole thing >>




Quick as a rocket, I exited the building and headed for my black Aston Martin. On the back seat, upholstered in black leather, there it lay, like a helpless stone, the radio used for communication. Without waiting any longer, I started up the playback.As I turned on the recorder, the doctors and other police officers who had come with me were intent on loading the myriad of corpses onto the various ambulances, not before, however, taking pictures of their feet soaked in blood and sweat. It was a grotesque sight, but at the same time very exciting. All that vast expanse of bloody feet, soaked in the fetid smell of death, made me excited. Before leaving with the recording, I took one last look at that endless expanse of feet, hoping to have time to smell and touch them.




 In this file I now report the last hours of life of Officers Mary and Steve:




10:00 a.m.


<< It is 10:00 a.m. on 06/15/2022, Special Agent Mary and I believe that some Tusk goons are forcing payment for their protection to Mr. Adam, the owner of the town's antique store. We are stationed in front of the store and awaiting the arrival of the Tusk henchmen, Steve close >>


Adam was an old, poor goat who after many years of hard sacrifice had realized his dream, which was to open his own business. The place was not huge in fact, one could call it a shack, but at least it gave him a living. Recently, poor Mr. Adam had filed a complaint with the local police because some suspicious guys had threatened him. The secret agency of which Mary and Steve were employees had immediately sprung into action, seeing this affair as a golden opportunity to nab the criminals who had been terrorizing the town for so long.


<< Mary, what do you think about this whole situation? >>


Mary was the private agent who had worked for countless years together with Steve. The two of them had solved many cases together, foiling countless criminal operations scattered all over the world. It was Steve himself who designated Mary as his colleague, not so much because of her physical appearance, which left much to be desired, but because, just like Steve, she was willing to give her all for the weak. Steve was a big bear with pitch-black fur, two beautiful crimson-red eyes, and a pair of huge, well-groomed and very fragrant feet, much like Private Agent Steve's. 


<< I don't know Steve, I doubt we can nab a big criminal operation like Tusk in such a remote place >>


<< You may be right, however, it doesn't hurt to try. By the way, I brought coffee, would you like some? >>


<< Gladly, thank you >>


Grabbing the glass with the usual black coffee inside, Mary's gaze remained seemed to get lost in that dark pool of caffeine. It was as if something was going through his mind, something I did not know. Her big, fragrant bare feet moved as if they were freshly caught fish. The long, stubby toes of his feet were beginning to sweat, ruining the delicious fragrance they usually gave off. I had never seen her so agitated, yet this was certainly not the first operation involving Tusk. Perhaps she was agitated because this operation might have been the most important one so far. We had been stationed there for at least two full hours, and nothing had happened yet. Maybe that was why my colleague was agitated?


<< Hey Mary, are you okay? >>


My question seemed to strike her in the soul, because as my words came out of my mouth, Mary took a leap and spilled the hot drink in her hands. As if she were a Meteorite, the glass with the hot drink fell on her feet, further soiling them. A small moan came out of Mary's mouth, but not from the pain caused by the small burns, but more from a forced interruption of her streams of thought. Mary turned back to me, scanning my face with her red eyes and, as if none of this had happened, said smilingly:


<< It's okay Steve, don't worry >>


Although her words sounded sincere, I could not help but worry. I remained silent for a few seconds, thinking of something to say to calm her down but, as soon as I opened my mouth, Mary jumped forward and pointed to something in front of us:


<< It's them >>


I immediately turned in the direction that her finger pointed, and saw two big lions dressed very smartly in a blue jacket and red tie, entering the poor old man's store. The thing that stood out more than anything else, however, were their feet: the term mammoth was not enough to describe the size of their bare feet, wrapped in small tufts of yellow hair and very well groomed. One of them went inside, while the other stayed outside to keep an eye on things.


<< This is it Mary, it's them. Get ready to spring into action >>


Mary turned to me and nodded her big head in assent. Before I turned around, however, I took a quick glance at her feet and, fortunately, they seemed to have stopped, a sign that my colleague had finally calmed down. All that was left to do now was to wait until the two thugs had made a misstep. The situation seemed to be quiet, no gunshots, no shouting, no nothing. Mary was observing the situation inside the club with her binoculars, while my attention was mainly focused on the thug outside. Her eyes were covered by thick sunglasses with black lenses, so I could not even see any changes in her gaze, and it bothered me a lot. Just thinking that those damn huge-footed assholes were threatening, or worse, the poor old man made my blood boil. Usually I am the more calm and rational one, but this time keeping calm seemed like a titanic task. As with Mary's, my feet were beginning to sweat, chasing away all the perfume I use daily to clean them. I slipped my hand inside the sheath attachment in my belt, finding relief only when I touched the metal from which my 9-gauge beretta was made. I would have loved to smoke a nice cigarette to calm my nerves, but the car had tinted windows and opening them would have meant blowing our cover. From time to time I would glance down at my rolex on my wrist, noting each time that time seemed to stand still. Mine and Mary's feet had never sweated so much, and the air inside the car was starting to get heavy. Our minutes were numbered, but nothing seemed to be happening. As if I had a biological timer in my head, every specific minute I turned my gaze in Mary's direction, hoping that at least she could give me updates on the situation in there, but nothing.


<< I'm starting to get nervous. We have to intervene, we can't let a member of Tusk do as he pleases >>


<< You are right Steve and I fully agree with you, but you have to be patient. If we intervene now, things may only get worse >>


My teeth had never ground so hard, so much so that even Mary was startled for a second. Now, even my hands began to shake like pudding, and the temptation to spread them toward my gun grew more and more intense.


"" How is it possible for Mary to be so calm? Until a moment ago'she seemed so nervous, and now she's being a good soldier. She's right though, I have to calm down, soon those two big shitty feet will come out of the woodwork, and I'll be there waiting for them with a nice bullet with their name on it ""


A full hour passed, but finally the asshole who had entered the store came out. Clutched in his filthy hands was a black suitcase, which probably contained the money the two had extorted from the store owner. You cannot understand the happiness I felt at seeing them get into their cheap car, with those greedy smiles printed on their faces and their feet moving so cheerfully. They looked like two children who had just received their weekly allowance from their mother. Mary must have understood my excitement, because the moment the two got into the car, she turned to me and said:


<< Start the car and let's go get those dirty-footed assholes >>


"" Finally ""


To Mary's exclamation I merely responded with a fantastic satisfied smile. At last the Tusk organization would be brought to justice, although the desire to fill their stinking feet with lead was quite tempting to me. The two Tusk henchmen, driving a black Gaz 11-73, had already turned the street corner when our car started up. It was amazing how such an ancient car could whiz by at such a speed. At the moment of their departure, the Tusk members had left behind only a curtain of black smoke, while their wheels had left an indelible mark on the asphalt. Driving our car instead was me, while Mary's job was merely to frame any targets. I could consider myself an excellent driver, capable of driving any type of vehicle entrusted to me, while Mary was a professional sniper, capable of hitting a fly a kilometer away. Together we formed an invincible pair, so much so that there is not a single person who survived one of our pursuits. As soon as the roaring roar of our car began to resound, I took off the handbrake that held the wheels stationary and we sped off in pursuit. The various beacons on our car began to spin wildly, and within seconds we spotted the gangsters' car. Our goal, however, was not to catch them immediately, but to observe where they were heading to finally figure out the location of their secret base. We were very careful not to be spotted as the Tusk car made one overtake after another. Fortunately, the road was not too full that morning, so performing more complex maneuvers was quite easy. The hardest part was driving through all that traffic with my sweat-soaked feet slipping on the pedals, making my job that much harder. From time to time, my gaze also fell on Mary's sweaty feet, which overlapped each other as if caught in a panic attack. For the first time in my entire career as a special agent, my vision was slowly blurring, perhaps because of the palpable tension that had built up, or perhaps because of the rage that was spreading through my entire body. Certainly, the high temperatures of that day were not helping:


<< Hey Mary, everything okay? >>


When I asked Mary that question, she did not turn around or answer me.
Most likely because she, like me, could think of nothing but the mission. I could see with my naked eye how every single hair on her body was vibrating as her feet continued to twitch. I tried to relieve the tension by removing one of my feet from the driver's side to rest it on Mary's, hoping that that simple gesture would reassure her at least a little, but I was wrong. The Tusk car slowly began to slow down, a sign that we had finally arrived at our destination. The criminals turned right, in the direction of an old hospital that had been abandoned for years. Having parked the car, the two imposing lions with huge feet got out and looked around to check that no one had followed them, not knowing that we had pulled up just behind. The two beasts nodded to each other and entered the ruined building. The hospital into which they headed was an immense three-story structure, the outer walls of which had been shrouded in an infinity of flowering green plants. Most of the windows had been destroyed, while the walls of the building had huge holes in them. The first thing I thought when I saw that structure was:


"" How stupid we were, such a building is perfect as a den for a criminal gang. We were idiots to think that no one had ever snuck in there."'


11:00 a.m.


Before going into action, Special Agent Mary and I stood outside the building for a few minutes waiting for some other goons to arrive inside our car. I must say that the wait was amply rewarded, because after a few minutes, four more lions, dressed identically to the ones from before, entered the building. They too were clutching large bags in their hands,moreover they seemed to be frightened. Just as a matter of security, we waited a few more minutes, but no one appeared. I then understood that all the members of Tusk were inside the building, and that what we had before us was a golden opportunity to finally stop all their operations. No more waiting, no more hesitation, now it was time to close the matter once and for all. I turned to my companion and, seeing his gaze filled with determination and confidence, nodded to him.


<< Let's go Mary, however, we must be careful, it is very likely that they are waiting for us >>




I don't know why I said that, perhaps it was simply a hunch I had. Although we had taken great care not to be seen, I still suspected that they knew about us. Before we raided that abandoned hospital, I reported to our superior, warning him of what we were about to do. Having received permission, Agent Mary and I entered the building, going through the same door that the criminals from earlier had used. Once inside, my nostrils could not help but sniff the disgusting smell of blood that hovered in the room. It was as if a massacre had just been carried out, and the blood-soaked bodies had been left to rot in some corner. The floor under our feet was slimy and slippery, as if some strange substance was soaking them. I could feel my feet getting dirtier and dirtier with each step I took inside that building, ruining the fragrant aroma of which I was very proud. After several minutes of exploration, we arrived in front of a huge desk that had probably served as a reception desk in the past. The wood of which it was composed had large red stains on it, which had encouraged the process of rotting of the furniture. My feet began to tremble, as if they were sending me a message or rather, a warning. Shortly afterward, in fact, two fierce lions armed with guns emerged from behind the large desk. Their bodies were shrouded in a baleful aura, while their feet, large and imposing, gave off an immense stench. They were covered with soil, which only increased their stench even more.


"" As I imagined, my feet are never wrong ""


Without hesitation, Special Agent Mary and I threw ourselves behind a wall behind us, holding our guns in the process. The order we received was clear, no member of Tusk was to leave the building alive, and we were more determined than ever to fulfill that task. Now that my feet and hands were no longer shaking, I was able to get a good aim while Special Agent Mary created a diversion. That was our attack strategy. Mary was the first to open fire, firing a shower of bullets in the direction of the filthy feet of those two damned criminals, who, having their way toward us closed, could do nothing but back away. The two lions sought refuge behind the desk, not knowing that I had equipped myself perfectly for such situations. I slipped a hand inside my pocket and pulled out a box of armor-piercing bullets, capable of passing through even concrete. I loaded my trusty beretta with the new bullets and prepared to open fire, when one of the two lions rose to his feet and shot my colleague. Fortunately, I was quicker. My shot managed to reach the lion's arm before he even fired, so his bullet made no more than a scratch on Mary's shoulder. Robust as she was, Mary did not even give off a small groan of pain; rather, her concerns were more focused on the fact that her own blood was staining her fantastic feet. Instead, my bullet went hit the target squarely, tearing the muscles of the criminal's arm, which fell backward as if it were a puppet whose strings had been pulled apart. I heard his friend's cries of rage spread throughout the room. Blinded by rage, the second lion raised his head to take better aim, ignoring the fact that by doing so he had just given us an easy target. I merely turned my gaze quickly toward Mary, mentally communicating to her that this was all hers. From underneath the thick facial hair of my companion's face I saw a satisfied smile break out, followed soon after by a thunderous gunshot. The shooter was Mary herself, who struck her target squarely between the eyes. The impact was so powerful that the lion's body made a huge leap back, leaving behind only a river of blood. Mary and I decided not to stow our weapons yet in case there were more henchmen waiting for us.


<< Let's go Mary, keep your guard up though, for sure they will be waiting for us >>


<< Yes, let's go >>


Mary and I set off in the direction of the flight of stairs, passing the bodies of the two criminals whose feet were immersed in a lake of blood with a nauseating smell. The sight was disgusting to say the least, but no big deal to us who were used to it. Step by step, the flight of stairs we were climbing became more and more crumbling, so much so that I would have thought it would collapse at any moment. When we reached the top, Mary laid a hand on my shoulder and stopped me:


<< Stop Steve, look over there! >>


I did as she said and turned in the direction of her finger, noticing without too much amazement that attached to the ceiling was a surveillance camera that was watching us.


<< Let's take it easy Steve, someone is watching us >>


The mission had gotten pretty complicated. Mary and I were very big, so getting through all those cameras was going to be really difficult, if not impossible. So the choices were two: either try a more stealth approach, or we would throw our heads down and kill everyone who would come at us. We did not know how many enemies we might encounter so, at least for the time being, it was best if we tried to go unnoticed. Despite our choice, we loaded the magazines of our guns before we started so that we would not be unprepared. Trying to be as quiet as possible, Agent Mary and I glued our backs to the walls and began to slide like worms, hoping that no one would ever see us. It was a pretty stupid choice, not least because before long someone would find the bodies downstairs and set off the alarm, so time was our enemy too. The wall seemed to have no end. Thousands of cameras were chasing us, while our feet kept emanating more and more sweat. The stench of the corpses downstairs was beginning to spread through the building, even reaching our nostrils. Our big feet began to shake. The tension was growing more and more intense, already imagining the rivers of blood that would soon begin to flow. Although the cameras had not yet seen us, Agent Mary and I harbored suspicions that someone was spying on us. We let it go for the moment, partly because it could easily have been just a feeling we had. As we reached the end of the endless wall, a fork appeared before us: the corridor split into two smaller corridors, and both were unmarked. The right, but at the same time the most dangerous, thing to do in that case was to split. I looked at Officer Mary behind me,first at her large feet that had now become dirty with sweat and dirt, then at her worried look. I could read the fear and anguish in his face, feelings that nevertheless flashed through me as well. I motioned him with my hands to go into the hallway to the right, while I would head for the one on the left. As was to be expected, Mary listened to my command without controversy. I sent her ahead, wishing her good luck as I watched her thick hair and big feet disappear into the shadows. I swallowed some saliva and worked up my courage. I would have loved to smoke a nice cigarette, but I was afraid the smoke detectors would be on. I took courage: I gripped my faithful beretta with both my hands and walked down the dark corridor, hoping to meet Mary as soon as possible. In the direction I went there were no additional cameras, so for a short distance I was relieved. As I sped forward like a rocket, I saw two large guards with their backs turned. Both wore the usual garish criminal outfit, while their heads were covered by a less graceful top hat. For a moment I had to laugh, partly because my mind associated the image of those two with one of the famous Arsenio Lupin. As I watched them, I thought of a way to eliminate them without attracting too much unwanted attention, but how? If I fired, the rumble would draw the attention of other guards toward me. Suddenly, a light bulb went on in my mind. I slipped a hand into my pocket and pulled out a wooden blowgun, very similar to those used by Indians. In the mouthpiece in front I slipped a small pink ball with a needle attached to it, which contained a powerful paralyzing soporific capable of knocking out even an elephant. Threading the bullet, I took aim while holding my breath. When I was certain of what I was about to do, I used all my accumulated breath to launch the dart at supersonic speed, striking full on the neck of the guard on the right, who immediately fell to the ground like a puppet without strings. In the small lapse of time when the partner approached his paralyzed comrade, I looked for another bullet and fired. As before, the shot hit, and the second guard also fell to the floor, unable to move any muscle. Paralyzing however was not enough, those bastards deserved worse. From my other pocket I pulled out two sachets of the kind used for vacuum packing and approached the two as if I were the reincarnation of death itself. I couldn't wait to see their faces turn purple, while their sweaty, dirty, stinking feet would be flailing madly. As I arrived in front of my two victims, they looked at me with a terrified look. I could see their fear emanating from their bodies as those huge appendages they called feet began to twitch. Gentle as a cleaning lady, I lowered myself close to their faces, reveling in the stench of sweat their feet gave off. I smiled as if I were a demon out of hell itself, as I gently slipped the plastic bags around their heads. I could see the tears coming out of their eyes, I could sense their terror. Maybe I was losing my humanity, but what am I saying, they are nothing but filthy bloodthirsty beasts, and it is only right that they suffer as much as possible. I kept smiling sadistically, while with a long black string I composed a beautiful bow around their necks. I could see how the plastic bag twisted and tarnished as the lungs of the two beasts swelled more and more in a desperate search for oxygen. Soon, their faces turned purple as their filthy feet were deprived of life. I saw them trying to bite the bag, but the poor idiots did not know that plastic was bulletproof. It was a magnificent feeling to see life slowly leave their bodies as their lungs began to slow their breathing. Soon, death claimed their souls, leaving behind only their sweat-soaked bodies. Once their demise was ascertained, I turned my back on them and continued my advance. I am sorry to have shown you this side of me, but when it comes to criminals like them, my humanity disappears, giving way to the demon that lives inside me. I continued to advance undaunted, relieved that I did not hear gunfire. I don't deny that I was worried about my colleague, but at the same time I put a lot of faith in her abilities, and I knew that she would be capable of killing anyone she came across. After a while, I arrived in front of another crumbling flight of stairs. Most likely, that flight would lead me to the top floor, the place where I would finally meet the boss of that association. There was no time to waste; I would have loved to wait for Mary's arrival, but the clock was ticking. With determined steps I climbed all the steps one by one, aware that that might be the last thing I did. The higher I climbed, the more intense the stench of death and blood became. It was, however, when I saw a large patch of blood on the staircase that fear took over. I had not yet heard the sound of gunshots, so that blood had to belong to Mary. That her shoulder wound had gotten worse? I had to do it right away, I had to help her. My feet moved at an unthinkable speed, climbing that steep staircase in a matter of seconds. I risked falling many times because my feet were enveloped in a transparent coating of sweat that made them slippery. Needless to say, the stench I sensed as I reached the summit was terrible. A tremendous stench of blood and sweat that almost made me vomit. I don't know how I did it either, but I made it to the top. Upon reaching the summit, my spirits calmed, for before me, against all my expectations, was my colleague, standing in front of a huge pile of corpses dripping with blood. From every single toe of their huge hairy feet gushed long rivers of blood, which only fed the unbearable stench that hovered in the air. Fortunately, Mary was completely unharmed, except for the wound she had received earlier on her shoulder. Complete silence reigned all around us, so much so that I myself could hear my colleague's heartbeat. She had not yet realized that I was behind her so, to make up for it, I decided to step forward. Before I could even say anything, Mary pulled out her cell phone from her breast pocket. Immediately, she lowered herself to the height of the huge bloody feet of the various deceased henchmen, pointing her camera at them. As if she were a professional photographer taking pictures of beautiful models, Mary took an endless amount of shots, framing every single angle of every single foot. Through the screen of her cell phone, those huge, bloody, hairy feet seemed to be actual works of art carved in marble. I remained so focused on the corpses' feet that I did not realize that two more henchmen had appeared behind me, much larger and more imposing than any I had faced so far. One was a snake with a machine gun for a tail and a sheriff's hat on his head, while the other was a large pink hippo wearing classic mobster clothes. What attracted my attention, however, and made me distracted, were his mammoth feet, devoid of hair and covered with small patches of still damp soil. Because of that distraction, I was not in time to warn Mary, nor to draw my gun from its sheath. Within seconds, my vision disappeared, and my head began to hurt tremendously. The last thing my eyes saw were the magnificent, delightful feet of the hippo.


12 o'clock


<< Come on now boys, wake up. I want to see if you live up to your reputation >>


My vision was still blurry, so I couldn't see what I had in front of me. All I could see at that moment was a wooden desk with the biggest, most magnificent, and delightful feet on it that I had ever seen. Even the care with which they had been treated was nothing short of perfection: there was not the slightest trace of a hair, and they gave off an intoxicating fragrance that would knock anyone's socks off. When I looked up to see who they belonged to, I saw a mammoth figure, dressed in a blue jacket and red tie, looking at me and Agent Mary, who was sitting next to me. She was perfectly polished and, looking at her belt, I saw that those filthy dogs had not even taken our guns away.


"" Is it possible that they are underestimating us? Yet we took out several of their men. Perhaps, thanks to their stupidity, we could turn the situation in our favor ""


As soon as I finished thinking about that sentence, the door behind us opened, and entering were 11 figures in all, all of them dressed alike. Nine were simple henchmen, so nothing too worrisome, but the other two were the ones I was most afraid of. I immediately recognized what they looked like; they were the two who had so easily landed on us just moments before. They both looked at us with a look filled with superiority-they, too, were underestimating us.


"" Perfect, victory is ours.""


I turned my gaze in the direction of my colleague, letting her know that all hell would break out in that gloomy room shortly. If all those criminals had gathered inside that single room, it meant that....


<< That's right, Special Agent Steve. I am Pale Mama, head of the great Tusk organization, while these two behemoths behind me are Ivory and Bob >>


""So, the miter-tailed snake was Bob, while the hippo was Ivory. Perfect, now I know what names to put on their tombstones."""


<< I want to be honest with both of you. I like both of you a lot. Both of you have magnificent bodies and most of all, feet that would drive anyone crazy. It would be a waste to kill you now so, I propose a deal. Join me and I will let you live >>


Hearing such an absurd proposal, Mary and I started laughing like children at a carnival. The best part, however, was that while those jerks thought we were merely laughing, we were actually taking advantage of that distraction to grab our guns. At the mere thought of exterminating the Tusk once and for all, my toes began to sizzle, as did Mary's. Every single laugh, every single moment of distraction we were gaining, would soon lead us to the realization of our dream. Pale mama meanwhile, was looking at us with a look filled with anger. Evidently, she couldn't stand the idea that she was the one being underestimated. Bob and Ivory meanwhile, were getting ready to ignite the dust. Like us, they were looking forward to merciless carnage. And who are we to make them wait any longer?


<< Now Mary! Let's get started >>


<< Let's show them who we are Steve >>


With a snap of a feline, the Mary rose to our feet with our guns tightly clasped in our hands. Before the big guy could even blink, our bullets pierced his skull, knocking him backward into the middle of a lake made with his own blood. When the big body fell, the thud from it raised an immense dust cloud that made sight impossible for all of us. A rain of fire was unleashed inside that room. Bullets flew swiftly like migrating birds and stung like raging calabashes. Big rivers of blood began to decorate the walls of the room, while more and more corpses clogged its floor. Within seconds, all 9 henchmen who had gone in there lost their lives, leaving Mary and me in an old-fashioned confrontation with Ivory and Bob. The four of us were the only ones still breathing. The air was becoming more and more impossible to breathe as the tension that had been building was becoming palpable. I found myself meeting Ivory's gaze, while Mary had to contend with Bob. All our feet, submerged in an endless expanse of foul-smelling blood, were flailing desperately, as if impatient for action. The huge hippo was discreetly scrutinizing me, a sign that he had finally realized who he was dealing with.They both understood that we were serious people, ready to kill anyone who stood in our way. The only thing that could be heard was the ticking of the hands of the clock hanging on the wall, which read 12 o'clock. When both hands touched the number 12, we all started shooting. My bullet pierced straight through Ivory's chest, who fell to the ground immersed in a pool of blood. Unfortunately, however, before he died the henchman had managed to hit my right arm. The pain was immense, but my determination was even more so. Distracted by my victory, however, I did not see what had happened to Mary. When I turned toward her, I saw her chest completely covered with bullet wounds. The snake, having a machine gun at his disposal as a weapon, had managed to fire an endless barrage of bullets, the bullets of which had hit my colleague squarely in the face. I never cried as I did that day. I never felt such a sadness, a pain, a despair stronger than that. My colleague, my friend, the person I loved most, lay before me lifeless. It couldn't be true, I didn't want to believe it. In an uncontrollable fit of rage, I rose to my feet and walked toward Bob with my loaded gun in my hand. I used every shot I had in the magazine to make sure that the snake bastard was dead once and for all. When my sadness had subsided slightly, I remembered the mission.


<< I must take pictures as proof of the success of the mission >>


Without hesitation, I used my cell phone to take pictures of every single foot in that room. The fragrance of death and blood hovering in there was going to my head, inducing me to think too dirty thoughts. Every single foot I saw, bathed in blood and sweat, in the most varied and fantastic shapes, made me feel an excitement I had never experienced. The photos were getting harder and harder to take, so after taking many of them, I put my phone away and began to play with the Tusk chief's mammoth feet. His toes, so big, so fat, so clean, so fragrant--they were nothing short of perfect. It was like being in an all-you-can-eat of feet, where an immense buffet awaited only me. The more time I spent in that room, the more I wanted more. Every single bloodstained foot seemed to be calling to me. I spent a full hour there, basking in the fragrance of feet and death, satisfying my every pleasure with those big, fragrant feet. Suddenly, however, the door to the room opened and an endless number of henchmen entered, all armed and ready to kill me. Now that my sanity was gone, all I could see were their tasty feet drawing me toward them. I wanted to taste them, I wanted to touch them, I wanted to taste them ... the fire opened again, and an endless amount of bullets grazed my head. A sadistic smile worthy of a demon was plastered on my face. By now I had gone into Berserk mode. Quick as a jaguar, I drew my gun and began to shoot down those filthy criminal scum one by one. Although I had killed an entire horde of them, they seemed never-ending. Aware that I was now going to die, I decided to at least kill as many as I could. If I must go to hell, they would follow me. Blood enveloped my whole body, soiling my jacket and my feet, but that did not stop me. I fired I don't know how many shots, killed I don't know how many people. Everything has a price, though. I am recording these last words as I lie in a pool of blood. I am dying, but at least I have no regrets. Before I slumped to the ground, I walked out of the room and hid under a pile of corpses. If I am going to die, I want to die while being submerged by the one I love. I can smell the intense odor of their bloody feet, and these are all I need. It has been a long journey, my friend, but now I must go. I wait for you up there in heaven, my friend…


6 p.m.


Having finished recording, I ran as fast as I could to the corridor indicated by my friend. As he said, his body lay under a huge mountain of corpses. Clutched in his hands, he held the feet of some henchmen. I could not hold back the tears, but at least I was happy to know that he had died while being overwhelmed by the things he loved most. I called the doctors, who took Steve's body away. Before getting Mary and Steve's bodies into the ambulance, however, I decided to perform one last ritual in their honor. I told the doctors to take their bodies to the abandoned garden of the hospital, telling them to place them in the center of the lawn where there was a still functioning fountain. I told them to spread the bodies out under the waning sun so that their thick fur and magnificent feet would stand out even more. As if they were little puppets, I first grabbed Mary's bloodstained fingers and began to worship them as if they were gods. I decided to lick them as much as I could, so as to remove all the blood in which they were soaked. Lick after lick, Mary and Steve's feet shone again like the day they were born. The sweet fragrance of their feet had beguiled my taste buds, chasing away all the sadness I felt. Their taste was indescribable, the bitterness of blood, the saltiness of sweat and the special flavor that the soil created had made that mix a tasty cocktail of flavors. Tears of joy began to flow from my eyes as I continued to greedily lick their toes as if they were Lollipops. I spent a whole hour like this, until the loner decided it was time to leave. I got to my feet and said my last goodbye to my best friends, as the sun descended below the horizon and colored their bodies a deep rosy color:


<< Goodbye Steve, goodbye Mary. Wherever you are now, know that it has been an honor to be your friend >>