Scary Horror Stories by Dr. NoSleep - 3 Cancun Horror Stories

Episode Date: February 28, 2022

🎧 Check out The SCP Experience podcast here: https://spoti.fi/3zCFjQc 🎉 Ad-free episodes + bonus episodes: https://www.patreon.com/drnosleep 🎥 YouTube: https://youtube.com/c/DrNoSleep �� Send all advertising inquiries to: [e-mail] Author: Matt Doggett Facebook Page: https://www.facebook.com/MatthewDoggettAuthor/ Website/Newsletter sign up: matthewdoggettauthor.com DISCLAIMER: This episode contains explicit content. Parental guidance is advised for children under the age of 18. Listen at your own discretion. #drnosleep #scarystories #horrorstories #doctornosleep #truescarystories #horrorpodcast #horror Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Give me a break, I said to my buddy, Tim. I'm serious, Tim said. Look it up. We were sitting at our resorts hotel bar, having just arrived in Cancun about two hours earlier. Both our girlfriends were up in our respective rooms, getting ready for an early dinner, while Tim and I waited down at the bar. I didn't even know they had crocodiles in Cancun, I said, pulling out my phone. Mike, Tim said, leaning toward me.

Did you not do any research on this place? It's one of the major reasons I wanted to come here. I can do a good three or four videos on the crocodiles alone. More if I can actually get up close to a few of them. Tim had started a YouTube travel channel. So far, he'd only been doing videos about camping and traveling in the United States. But he was excited about doing his first series in a foreign country. You're insane. You know that?

I asked. What do you know about crocodiles? You know how fast those things move? I typed in a search on my phone about crocodiles in Cancun. I'm not going to put my hand in one's mouth or anything, Tim said. You know me better than that. But with the magic of filmmaking, I can make it look like I get very close to them. Besides, people feed them all the time here.

Maybe I'll see some unsuspecting tourists get chomped on. I knew Tim was joking, but I still. shook my head and disgust. Don't even joke about that, man, I said. Glancing down at the stories, Google pulled up for me on my phone. According to reports, there had been more and more incidents of crocodiles attacking people in the Cancun area. Biologists blamed it on rising river levels that allowed the crocodiles to move around the area more, showing up in lagoons and cave systems that tourists frequented.

Damn, I said, reading one of the news stories. Five people have been killed by crocodiles this year. That's compared to no recorded deaths for the last 20 years in the area. I know, Tim said. That's what I'm saying. Most of the crocodiles down here aren't big or aggressive enough to kill people. They just end up maiming them. So whatever is doing the killing must be a big, nasty crock.

And do you want to try and find it? Not necessarily. Like I said, man, it's all about how you put things. With a good thumbnail and a scary title, I bet I can get 50,000 views in the first week. Something like Monster Crocodile terrorizes Cancun resorts. How does that sound? It sounds like you're sick, I said,

unable to keep from smiling at Tim's excitement. I wanted him to succeed, but I also didn't want anyone to get mauled or killed by a crocodile. Something occurred to me then. Have you ever seen Nightcrawler, Tim? The one with Jake Gyllenhaal. Tim laughed. Yeah, great movie, but don't worry.

I'm not going to shove you into a crocodile, just so I can grow my YouTube channel. Well, that's a relief. But, and don't be mad. I booked us a tour of some of the caves here tomorrow. Starts at 11 in the morning. Seriously? I said.

You already pay. for it? Yeah, man, my treat. Besides, this is what we're here for, right? I promise we'll have a good time. Fine, I said, but you get to tell the girls about it. They wanted to relax at the pool tomorrow. Speaking of which, Tim said, looking over my shoulder, the girls are here. We had a great meal and a few drinks before calling it a night. To my surprise, the girls were excited about the tour in the morning. Of course, they probably didn't know about Tim's ulterior motives. By the time the tour rolled around, I had all but forgotten about the gruesome news stories about crocodile attacks. After all, I reasoned. Five out of the hundreds of

thousands of people that had been in the area wasn't bad. What were the chances of our group getting attacked? A private tour company picked us up right at 11. We all got into their van and started the hour drive out of the hotel zone and down the coast. Our driver's name was Israel, and our tour guide's name was Umberto. On the drive to our destination, Umberto told us all about the caves we were going to see. There's a whole system of these caves on the Yucatan peninsula, known as Senotes. Umberto went on to explain in excellent English what kind of wildlife we were likely to see. When he finished his list without mentioning the modern dinosaurs Tim was after, my friend asked him about them.

What about crocodiles? Tim said. His camera up and ready to record Umberto's response. I watched closely as something dark passed over our tour guide's face. It was only for a moment and so quick that I wasn't really sure I'd seen it at all. There are crocodiles found there sometimes, yes, he said. But not in the places we will go. However, there are crocodiles shows I can tell you about if you wish.

handled by professionals. Very safe. What if we want to see a crock? Tim said. Who knows, Signor? Mberto said. Maybe we'll get lucky. What's your obsession with crocodiles anyway? Trina, my girlfriend asked. He's been talking about them non-stop for a month. Beth, Tim's girlfriend, said, rolling her eyes.

I just think they're cool, Tim said, winking at me. We had to hike a little way into the jungle after we parked. Umberto handed us life jackets and told us in no uncertain terms that we were to wear them the whole time we were in the water. I didn't know what to think about this, but when we crested a small hill and the jungle cleared, I was in awe. There was a large rock overhang in the clearing, and under the rock was some of the clearest water I had ever seen.

It was a large pool, perhaps the size of a public swimming pool, and you could see all the way to the bottom, which was a good 10 feet deep in places. The rock roof over the natural pool sloped down toward the back, and it looked like there were passageways in the rock that could easily fit a human. There were some stairs leading down a slope to the water, so we could get in easily if we didn't want to jump. Tim, of course, was the first one in. He threw his stuff down, grabbed his waterproof camera, and jumped in with a shout. Oh, hell yeah, Umberto. He called. The water's great.

Umberto smiled and gave a thumbs up before heading back down to the van to get the cooler with our lunch in it. The driver, Israel, stood watching us quietly, a bored look on his face. Mike, come on in! Tim shouted. Now's our chance. For what? I asked, taking off my shirt and putting the life jacket on. Exploration!

I turned and looked at Trina. She rolled her eyes and smiled. We'll be here, she said. Just be careful. I ran and jumped into the Sonote, nearly landing on Tim. We both came to the surface of the pristine and warm water, laughing. All right, let's go, Tim said, heading for one of the dark passageways at the back of the cave. As we approached it, we heard a rush of shouted Spanish behind us.

I turned around to see Israel standing at the edge of the Sanote, yelling at us, and waving his arms for us to stop. Trina and Beth stood behind him, looking perplexed. He says we can't go that way, I told Tim, who was pressing on as if nothing was amiss. Of course he'll say that, Tim said. But I paid my money, and I'll go where I want. You got my back? I looked back at Israel, who saw that he wasn't getting through to us.

Estabien. I called out to him, telling him it was all good. Then I turned and swam, following Tim. into the dark passageway. The light faded behind us as we rounded a bend. The limestone walls were close enough that we used our hands to help ourselves along. Tim turned on his camera's light, and we continued on with only that for illumination. The further we got, the more I realized how bad an idea this was. There was no way we could outmaneuver a crocodile in the water. We were sitting ducks. This is a bad idea, I said. We should. Oh shit. What? What is it? Something touched

my leg, I said, twisting around and trying to look into the water, but only seeing the camera's light reflected off the surface. There are tons of fish and turtles in here, man, Tim said. I bet it was. Tim slammed into me. Our heads cracked together from the impact. What the fuck was that? I said, rubbing my head. I don't know, Tim said, fear creeping into his voice. Let's go back. Good idea, I said, turning around. Just as I did so, something big and fast hit me in the back of the legs,

causing me to backflip in the water. I scrambled to get my head out of the water and pressed myself against the wall of the tunnel, as if that would help anything. That was the same thing, Tim said. His voice shaking. It just went past us. It hit me out of the tunnel.

of the way and then ran into you. Whatever it was, it was big and strong, I said, unable to fathom just how strong it was. The thing pushed me out of the way, like I was a floating beach ball in the water. We stayed there for a minute, waiting for the thing to attack us. Tim was the one to break the spell of fear we were under. Let's go, he said. We just can't sit here and wait for it. Right, I said, of course. We worked our way back toward the time. entrance, breathing hard and shivering despite the relatively warm water. I took the lead this time, and Tim followed along behind, holding up his camera for light. At one point, he must have dropped

the camera, because I heard some splashing, and the light went out for a moment, but it was back before I even had a chance to turn around. After what seemed like a very long time, I saw evidence of sunlight up ahead. We're almost there, I said. Tim didn't answer, but I shrugged it off. There was one more bend up ahead before we were back inside of the others, and I was itching to get out of the water. I started moving faster, and Tim started falling behind. Just as I reached the bend, I noticed that he was no longer right behind me. I paused and turned to check on my friend.

Hey, Tim! The words froze in my throat. About ten yards behind me, something was holding up Tim's camera. Its yellow eyes seemed to glow with malice from where they stood. stared at me just above the surface of the water. The vertical pupils fixed unnervingly on me. I could barely see its dark, leathery arm where it came out of the water to hold the camera.

Its face was a mess of scales. Its ridged skull easily twice the size of mine, and as it rose up out of the water, it revealed its mouth, which looked to be a row of jagged teeth sticking out all around its vaguely human oblong head. Still fixed on me with its sickly yellow eyes, the creature's permanent smile split apart,

its hinged jaw opening to release a gush of bloody water. And there, in the middle of its maw, sat a severed hand. Tim's hand. The creature used its tongue to shift the hand out, the fingers falling against its teeth. It snapped down, severing the fingers like they were hot dogs under a butcher's knife. I screamed and convulsed, pushing off the wall and rounding that final bend.

I could see the girls swimming in the sonote, and I screamed at them to get out of the water, sure that any second, the hideous thing, would pull me under and devour me like it did Tim. Get out of the water, get out, get out, get out! There's a crocodile! In my panicked state, telling them there was a crocodile in the water

seemed like the best thing to do. There was no time to explain to them about the creature, and if I had called out about a monster in the water, they would have laughed, thinking it was a joke. But they believed a crocodile could be in the water, so they climbed out. And soon after, I climbed out too. Israel and Umberto stood there with us, staring at the water in utter shock.

Beth was asking me where Tim was, but I could do nothing but watch the water, knowing somehow that something terrible was coming. Look! Trina said in a near scream, just near the back of the cave, where the shade made the water dark, dark, we saw a cloud of red liquid streaming out as if from an underwater hose. And in that red liquid, that blood, a familiar face came floating out. Beth and Trina both screamed, seeing it for what it was, Tim's severed head. It bobbed to the surface, his eyes open and staring in different directions.

It floated there, face up, while we stood on the shore, unable to comprehend what had just happened. It was a crocodile, I said. It was a lie. I knew it was. But I needed that lie. I repeated it again and again. I couldn't face a world where such creatures roamed. So I shoved what I saw deep inside,

telling everyone that it was a big crocodile, warning them never to let anyone into that cave again. The bright Mexico sun beams down on my shoulders, warming me and melting my memories of the frigid north-eastern. eastern landscape I've left behind. It's winter, but it feels like summer here in Cancun. The aquamarine pool water sparkles as Kimberly slips in. There are a few people around the pool, but it's nowhere near crowded, not on this Monday afternoon. Kim looks up at me from the water, smiling and squinting behind her glasses. You coming in, silly? She asks. The water's perfect.

Yes, I say, smiling down at her. I turn to see that she's put her stuff on one of the lounge chairs behind me. I dump my bag, towel, and book down on the chair next to hers. I don't have my phone. It's back up in the room, which feels both weird and awesome at the same time. I slip into the water and release a sigh as it cradles me. The near weightlessness, putting ever more mental distance, between me and the troubles I've left behind to come on this vacation. I've got water,

sun, a good book, and no work for the next week, not to mention Kim, looking amazing in her pink bikini. What could be better? Nothing, that's what. Yeah, it's going to be a great vacation. There's a swim-up bar on the other side of the pool, and I'm tempted to head over there now, but it's a little early for me to start drinking, even if I am on vacation. Soon enough, though, the choice is taken out of my hands. A couple who had been lounging on the other side of the pool walk up, smiling, and carrying four drinks. Hey, the guy says.

You're Americans, right? I can tell by his accent that he's American, or maybe Canadian. Yeah, I say. We're from Buffalo. You? Cincinnati. The guy says, kneeling. Here, have a drink with us.

He extends one hand to me with a blue tropical drink in it, and the woman does the same to Kim. Kim and I look at each other. She shrugs. Let the vacation begin, she says, taking the drink. I take one from the man and raise it in salute. Salute, the man says. He takes a drink and then sits down,

dipping his legs into the pool. Thanks, I say. I'm Andre, and this is Kim. I'm Devin, and this is Claire, the guy says. Hi, Claire says with a smile and a wave. She slips into the pool and starts chatting away with Kim like their old friends. I'll never understand how women do that. Devin and I talk, mostly about what to do in Cancun.

He and Claire come down every year, he tells me. I tell him it's our first time, and he gives me the lowdown on all the best spots. By the time I finished that first drink, my head is swimming. I suddenly realized that I've lost track of Kim. I look around, scanning the pool for her. What's wrong, bud? Devin asks. Kim?

I say. Where'd she go? Devin chuckles. You're not much of a drinker, are you? He says. She and Claire went inside to order some food from the restaurant. They came by and said so about ten minutes ago. You really don't remember?

Oh, yeah, I say. But the truth is, I don't remember. I'm just trying to hide the embarrassing fact that I can't handle my alcohol. Those drinks were doubles, Devin says. The world is fuzzy, and every time I move my head, my vision has to work to catch up. What was in those drinks? I asked, struggling to pull myself out of the pool. The sun is setting, but that can't be right.

Right. Kim and I came out here just after two. I don't know, man, Devin says. It's a blue Hawaiian or something like that. Not sure what's in him. Are you okay? No, I say, finally getting out of the pool. I try to stand up, but the world tilts, and my legs don't seem to work. I crawl over to my lounge chair and lie down. Water, I say.

Please. Yeah, Devin says. got it. While Devin's gone getting me water, Kimberly comes back out to the pool with Claire. As soon as she sees me, she knows something is wrong. Are you okay, babe? She says. I try to focus my eyes on Claire behind her to see how far away she is. I think he drugged me, I whispered to Kim. What? Who, Devin? What did he say? Claire says, just a hint of indignation in her voice. I guess I wasn't quiet enough. He doesn't drink much, Kim says, apologetically. What happened, Devin? Claire says, looking up at Devin, who approaches with a glass of water in his hand. I don't know. I think that

drink was too much for him, he says. Here you go, buddy. He hands me the glass of water and I take a sip, then immediately spit it out. What the hell is this? I ask, slurring my words. That's not water. What? I asked the bartender to give me filtered water. Devin takes a sip and spits it out. You're right, he says, then dumps it out on the ground. That must be tap water. I want to go back to the room, I say to Kim. Let's go back to the room.

Okay, Kim says. Can you walk? I sit up and pause, waiting for my vision to catch up with the movement. I stand up and then immediately see. Sit back down hard on the chair. I'll help you, Devin says. No. I say, not you.

Andre. Kim says to me. I'm so sorry. She continues, talking to Devin and Claire. This is so embarrassing. I would... We would greatly appreciate your help. You've been nothing but good to us.

I can barely keep my eyes open now, so I let Devin help me up to our suite. Kim unlocks the door, and Devin guides me over to the king. couch, setting me down. He grabs a bottle of water from our mini fridge and sets it next to me. Sorry about this, bud, he says. I wish I could do something for you. I'll be sure to talk to the front desk about this. Oh, don't worry about that, Kim says. We'll take care of it when he's feeling better. I hope he feels better soon, Claire says as she and Devin leave. I'm able to keep my eyes

open long enough to watch Kim shut the door. I want to tell her to swing out the little metal plate that will stop anyone from opening the door more than two inches. But consciousness falls away from me as soon as I see we're both safely in the room. Wimpering sounds scratch at my unconscious mind, pulling me from sleep little by little. I open my eyes and all they want is to close again. I force them open and pick up my head, seeing that I'm still on the couch. That whimpering noise sounds every few seconds. And do I hear someone whispering? I sit up, rubbing my eyes, trying to dislodge the terrible headache from behind them.

I notice that it's still night out because the shades for the sliding glass door to our third floor balcony are open. Whimpering and more whispering reach my ears. What the hell is that? I stand up, happy to find that my legs are working much better than they were whenever we left the pool. The noises are coming from the bedroom. There are double doors there, and one of them is open about halfway. I stumble up to the open door and look inside to see Devin kneeling on the floor, leaning over a bloody and beaten Kimberly.

It looks like someone has taken a baseball bat to her. She's still wearing her bikini, and I can see bloody cuts all over her body. Both her eyes are swollen shut and her lip is split. The scene seems so unbelievable that, for a moment, I think I'm dreaming. Kim whimpers and Devin whispers something in her ear. My suspicions rush back at me, the memories of my near blackout at the pool clicking into place. And along with those memories, comes a wave of anger that seems to swell me to twice my sighs. I don't say anything.

I don't ask questions. I just rushed into the room and grab Devin by the neck. pulling him up with a strength I never knew I possessed. He fights back, and we stumble through the door into the living room of the suite, bumping into the coffee table in front of the couch. I redouble my efforts, choking and shoving him at the same time. His eyes are wide with disbelief and terror. He probably thought the drugs he slipped me should have kept me out for longer.

He swings his right fist up, hitting a glancing blow off my left temple, which only serves to make me angrier. I dig my heels into the ground, straighten my arms, and push with all I have. Devin backpedals, losing his footing, which simply makes us go faster. We're practically running

when his back smashes through the sliding glass door leading to the balcony. Glass rains down on my shoulders, but I pay it no mind. I keep pushing until Devin's back hits the balcony railing, and I keep pushing, only letting go with my left arm

to hook it under his legs, flipping him up over the railing and watching him fall to the concrete walkway three stories below. The wet crunch his body, makes on impact is immensely satisfying. So is how he comes to rest, folded in ways the human body isn't supposed to go. I rushed back into the room, noticing for the first time that the door to our suite is open. I hear running from the hall, then the door is shoved open, and a couple

of paramedics run in. Don'ty esther, where is she? One of them says, translating his own words for my sake. I bring them into the bedroom, and they immediately began working on Kim, who is, thanks, Thankfully, still alive. I'm here, baby, I say to Kim. I love you. Please, step back, sir. The same paramedic says, we'll handle this.

Is she going to be okay? I ask. Is she? Most of the wounds look superficial, so I think so. We'll know more in a few minutes. Please, step back. My room phone starts ringing, and I walk over to pick it up,

thankful for something to do. Hello, sir. This is the front desk. The man on the line says, Yes, I say, what is it? Is this Andre Burton? Yes, what is it? There's been an assault here.

Yes, I know, sir. That's why I'm calling. The man, we have him. He's in police custody. I just wanted to let you know. Your property will be returned to you as soon as possible. What? What man?

What are you talking about? I ask, growing nauseous. I'm sorry to say that it was one of our employees, sir, a bartender. but we've caught him. Your friend, Devin? He caught him coming out of your room. I thought you knew this. The two men fought, but the bartender got away.

Devin, he called us from your room. Told me to get an ambulance. They should be up there now. Are they? The phone slips out of my hands as I recall the look on Devin's face as we struggled. The surprise there. The terror. I sit down on the bed.

My hands grab fistfuls of my hair, seemingly of their own accord. He was trying to help her, to keep her company until the paramedics arrive. That's all. And I killed him for it. Dear God, I killed him. Where did you last see him? John asked me from the front seat of the taxi. I don't know, I said, trying and failing to clear my alcohol fogged brain.

Maybe at the bar? I don't remember, damn it. He was dancing last time I saw him. My friend Tiffany said next to me, He looked pretty drunk, but I didn't think he would just wander off like he did. Well, that's what I'm worried about, John said. Maybe he didn't wander off. Maybe he was robbed or something.

Strange things can happen down here, especially when you're blackout drunk. The taxi driver spoke Spanish to John, who answered him in the same language. The driver nodded and put the car in gear, pulling us away from the bar. Our night had been going so well. We were in Cancun for spring break, like thousands of other college kids. We'd spent the night drinking and dancing, and generally being jackasses at this bar near the beach. Everything was sand in the bar, which was pretty cool. I'd never been to any place like that.

And it was packed with all kinds of people, young and drunk, and looking to have a good time, just like we were. But when one o'clock in the morning hit, and it was time for us to leave, we couldn't find our friend Harold. What are we doing? I asked John, who was the only one that knew Spanish. He was also the most responsible of us, only having a couple of drinks over the course of the night. We're going to pay this guy to drive us around for a bit, John said. We're going to call out the windows for Harold, and we're going to hope he just decided to walk back to the house. We had all pitched in to rent a house in a nice little gated community right near the beach, but it was outside the hotel zone, and it was a good three miles from the house.

club to the house. A lot could happen in three miles in the middle of the night anywhere, not just in Mexico. And that was all dependent on the idea that Harold had decided to walk home, and wasn't unconscious in an alley somewhere. Fuck! I shouted, God damn it! Harold had always been like a brother to me. He was a small guy, quiet, and not the best at standing up for himself, for a big guy like me with essentially the opposite personality. This was a complete failure on my part. Harold was the first friend I made at college, and ever since there had been a kind of unspoken agreement

that I'd have his back no matter what. Chill, Derek, John said. This is not the time to lose your cool. The driver glared at me in the rearview mirror. Well, let's just go, I said. Can't this guy drive any faster? We don't want to drive fast, remember? John said. We need to be looking for Harold.

Tiffany was looking out her side of the car, and she started calling for Harold every ten seconds or so. John did the same on the other side. I scanned the roadside as we drove, looking into dishes and down alleys. I saw several dogs rumming around, but no people. Certainly no Harold. As we came up to an intersection, I saw movement down the side. side street. Stop! I said. Alto! The driver stopped, pulling over just past the street. What is it? John asked. I saw something. I said, getting out of the car. Tiffany, you stay here. John,

come with me. John spoke some Spanish to the driver and then got out of the car. We walked over to the side street and started down it. There were two guys in uniform standing in the road, leaning into the backseat of a blue and white extended cab truck, marked with Polizia Federal. Whoa, those are Federales, John said. Yeah, no shit, I said. What do you suppose they're doing? Derek, John warned, but I kept walking. He trailed along behind me.

I approached on the other side of the street, getting up next to the truck so I could see what they were doing. One of the police officers saw me coming and tapped his partner. They both turned around and looked at me. blocking my view of the back seat. What you got there? I asked. One of the guys started speaking Spanish. Harold, you in there? I called.

Derek. I could tell from his voice that he'd been crying. I stormed across the street, swaying, but determined to plow through these cops to get my friend back. I'd heard about dirty cops wanting money in Mexico, and I wasn't about to pay them anything. I wanted to know what the hell they were doing to my friend. Both officers raised their weapons. sub-machine guns from the look of them when I was about ten feet away. The one was still speaking rapid Spanish.

Chill out, Derek. John said. He says that Harold broke into a house. They're arresting him. Bullshit. I said. Ask them what they want. I pulled a wad of pesos out of my pocket.

How much? How much? Don't do that, man. John said. The talker smiled and stepped toward me like he was about to do a deal. He kept his submachine gun pointed at me while he yanked the wad of cash out of my hand. Then he let the gun hang on its strap as he grabbed my hand, speaking again.

Oh, Christ, Derek, John said from behind me. He's arresting you now too. I outweighed the guy by a good 50 pounds. So when he tried to turn me around to put the plastic cuffs on, I yanked my hand away and elbowed him in the throat. He stumbled back, grabbing at his submachine gun. I heard the safety click off just as I lunged forward and grabbed at it. He got his finger inside the trigger guard, just as I grabbed a hold of the stock, and the gun went off, spraying several bullets right into his partner.

Blood splattered the side of the truck as the officer crumpled to the street. When he realized what had happened, his eyes went wide, and his arms slackened for a moment. I need him in the crotch and found the clip to the gunstrap, releasing it and taking the weapon in my hands. I kicked him down onto his back and put a foot on him, pointing the submachine gun at his chest. Looking over at the dead policeman, the reality of the situation dawned on me, fighting through the haze of alcohol I'd been living in for the last six hours. Fuck, I said. Harold, you okay?

Is it safe now? Harold slurred from the back of the truck. He didn't wait for me to answer before stumbling out and tripping over the dead policeman. He started laughing, pointing at the cop. What did you do? John said, his voice high. What the fuck did you do? I didn't do it.

I said, This guy. Amid its pain in my leg, cut my words short, and I looked down to see that the cop had stabbed me in the leg with his knife. On reflex, I pulled the trigger, and the gun nearly jumped out of my hands,

but I was too close to miss, and the policeman's head exploded in a mess of gore. Holy shit! John said. Holy shit, holy shit. What the fuck, man? I looked from the knife in my leg to the police officer I'd just killed

and back again. The mixture of sickening pain and dulling alcohol jumbled my thoughts into an incoherent sludge, much like the liquid that was leaking out of the cop's decimated skull. Whoa, are these guys really dead? Herald said. Did you just kill two cops, Derek? No, I said. Nope. We were never here. I heard movement from up the street and saw the taxi driver poking his head around the corner to see what was going on. I fired from the hip at him, missing water. wide, he turned and ran. And a moment later, I heard Tiffany scream.

A moment after that, I heard his taxi start up and drive off. Tiffany came stumbling around the corner, talking about how the guy had thrown her out of his car. When her gaze landed on the two bodies, she stopped, eyes wide and mouth open. I'm sorry, John said from just behind me. I turned in time to see him swinging a brick at my face. There was pain, and then everything went black.

Once I woke up, processing was extremely quick. I was in a Mexican prison within a week, and there was nothing the U.S. State Department could do about it. I'd killed two federal cops. A cab driver and two of my friends were there to testify. I'll die in this Mexican prison, and it'll happen sooner than later, not because of the other inmates or poor conditions,

although those things are certainly a danger. No. It's because once a month, I'm visited by federal police officers, friends of the ones I killed, and they break my bones, smash my teeth in, and have fractured my skull several times. I have to use a colostomy bag now, because my insides have been so damaged, I can't even take a dump anymore. I can't take much more.

I don't even have a chance to heal properly before they're back again. But I take solace in the fact that I helped protect my arms. friend Harold, I just wish I'd done things a little differently. If I had to do it over again, I'd make sure to kill that taxi driver, and I'd sure as hell kill that traitor John. Lazzang sur-gillet, puissance-molyne, for 15 minutes. We'd say that's their dojo. Pre-a-joo? Vive the pleasure with Leo Jo! The casino in-line that proposes the most recent machine-ass-sou and the games of casino in direct.

Profite of 50 tours-grat-grat-Bas Bonanza, without exigences of mis and with payments instantanet. Hey, I've got Woohoo! Senture the pleasure Play-Ojo

188 and plus, 1,1 depots only, exclude in Ontario. 50 tours gratu on the machine a sub-beckbas Bonanza. Depos minimum of $10. Veil to play a

responsible. The conditions apply.