From obituary to ...Oh crap! Sidewalks of broken dreams From obituary to ...Oh crap! T h a n o S K a l a m i d a S Thanos Kalamidas Ovi ebooks are available in Ovi/Ovi eBookshelves pages and they are for free. If somebody tries to sell you an Ovi book please contact us immediately. For details, contact: ovimagazine@yahoo.com No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise), without the prior permission of the writer or the above publisher of this book An Ovi eBooks Publication 2025 Ovi eBookPublications - All material is copyright of the Ovi eBooks Publications & the writer C From obituary to ...Oh crap! From obituary to ...Oh crap! Thanos Kalamidas Part of: Sidewalks of broken dreams Thanos Kalamidas An Ovi eBooks Publication 2025 Ovi eBookPublications - All material is copyright of the Ovi eBooks Publications & the writer C From obituary to ...Oh crap! T he air was thick, a mix of cheap whiskey and burnt tobacco curling into the dim light of my smoky office. The city had a way of clos- ing in, but I couldn’t care less. When you’ve been running for this long, you get used to the weight on your chest. The weight of knowing, of being hunted, of seeing shadows in every corner. And I had been running long enough to know that you don’t stop running until your legs buckle. I lit another cigarette, the match striking with a hiss in the silence. There was a voice in my head, one I hadn’t heard in a while. It sounded like my old part- ner, Danny. You can’t outrun your past forever, John- ny. But I had to. I had no choice. Thanos Kalamidas Two months ago, I did the smartest thing I ever did. I faked my own death. The syndicate was after me, after the deal I botched, the one that went south in a hail of gunfire. There was a body, a charred one, too burned to tell it wasn’t mine. I wasn’t stupid enough to stick around and watch the pieces fall, so I ran. I knew how to disappear. I had the money, the right people in the right places. All it took was one phone call to make it look convincing. But now? Now it was starting to feel like it was all slipping through my fingers. The sounds outside my office window didn’t help, the low hum of traffic, the distant sirens. They were getting closer, and I could feel it in the pit of my stomach. I flicked the ash from my cigarette and waited. The knock came like a whisper, faint but distinct. They were here. I didn’t flinch. I’d seen their kind before, quiet, dangerous, and damn good at what they did. No one escapes from The Family, they always said. But I wasn’t afraid. Not of them, anyway. Fear was a luxury for men with futures. And I? I had none left. “Come in.” From obituary to ...Oh crap! The door creaked open. A tall figure stepped into the room, his silhouette framed by the neon glow from the streetlights. I didn’t need to see his face to know who he was. I could feel the cold air around him, the kind of cold that comes from a man who’s killed for a living. His shoes clicked against the floor, slow, deliberate. “You’re still alive,” he said, his voice low, almost bored. His words hit like a stone tossed into water. Ripples. I put the cigarette out in the ashtray, my fingers steady, my mind racing. “Guess I got lucky.” “No,” he replied, his tone now sharp. “You got care- less. Someone in your little fake-death stunt didn’t cover their tracks well enough. Someone talked. Someone saw you, Johnny.” I could smell the faint scent of gun oil, feel the weight of it hanging in the air. He wasn’t alone. They never came alone. But I wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of knowing how close I was to panicking. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said, leaning back in my chair, eyes locked on his. “I’m just a guy trying to keep his head down. You should try it sometime.” Thanos Kalamidas He didn’t laugh, didn’t smile. Just stepped closer, the cold creeping closer with each step. “No one leaves The Family. Ever.” His eyes were two black pits, no emotion. “And when they try, well...” He shrugged. “We make sure they’re gone for good.” I stood up then, a little too fast, the chair scrap- ing against the floor. My pulse was a drumbeat in my neck, but I wouldn’t let him see that. I walked over to the window, looking out at the city I had once ruled, the city I thought I had left behind. “If I were you,” I said without turning, “I’d leave now. The longer you stay, the more I start to think I’m gonna have to shoot you.” He stepped closer, his boots clicking louder now, but he didn’t flinch. He was already dead inside. He wasn’t here to negotiate. He was here to end it. “You think you can run forever?” he asked. “You think Danny was the only one who could track you down?” I froze, a chill crawling up my spine. “What do you mean?” The man smiled, though it didn’t reach his eyes. From obituary to ...Oh crap! “Danny was a good soldier. But even he made mis- takes.” I turned slowly, my heart hammering. “What do you mean? Danny’s dead.” The man’s smile grew wider. “Danny made the mis- take of thinking you were dead, Johnny. The moment he turned up dead... Well, that was when we knew you were still alive.” And just like that, it hit me. Danny. My old partner. He was dead, but the damn syndicate had figured out I was still breathing. The game was on. * * * * * * I wasn’t supposed to be here. Not like this, anyway. But sometimes life has a way of twisting things until you can’t see the line between right and wrong. Me? I’d been crossing that line for so long I didn’t even bother to look back anymore. Hell, if I could’ve seen it, I wouldn’t have cared. Not when it was the differ- ence between walking free or ending up in a shallow grave, buried under a mountain of mistakes. The knock on my office door came hard, a steady, Thanos Kalamidas methodical rap that made the walls feel smaller. I didn’t move. Not at first. In the back of my head, there was a memory, the kind that lingers when the past is about to catch up with you. Danny’s voice. The way it used to sound when we’d pull off a job. “You know, Johnny, the only way out is through.” I was starting to realize Danny was right. But by then, it was too late. He was dead, and I was the one who’d put that bullet in his back. I had to think fast. The room was small, just four walls that had heard too many lies and witnessed too much bloodshed. The faint glow of neon lights from the street outside filtered in through the blinds, making shadows dance across the floor like ghosts of past mistakes. I could feel the cold metal of the .38 revolver hidden in my desk drawer, the weight of it a reminder that nothing in this city ever stayed buried. The knock came again, sharper this time. It wasn’t just anyone at the door. I knew it. I could feel it in my gut. Danny’s voice again, clearer now. “You can’t outrun your past forever, Johnny.” The walls in the office seemed to close in, and I From obituary to ...Oh crap! reached for the gun. Not to shoot, not yet. Just to hold it, to feel its cold assurance. It was the only thing that had ever been loyal to me, and now it was my only chance to get out of this mess alive. The door handle turned. I had to move, but not in the way they expected. I cracked the door just enough to get a look. The hallway beyond was darker than I remembered, the shadows stretching like fingers reaching for me. I could hear the soft shuffle of boots on concrete, the faint echo of footsteps that never stopped. They were closing in. Fast. Damn it, Danny. Why did you have to go and get yourself killed? I had no time for regrets. No time for anything ex- cept survival. I slipped out of the office, silent as a ghost. My feet moved by habit, by instinct. They had trained me well. I could feel the heavy thud of my heartbeat in my chest, but I kept moving, kept my breathing steady. A man who doesn’t breathe right in situations like this is a man who ends up dead. The first man turned the corner, just as I expected. The silhouette was tall, wide-shouldered, and a little too confident. He didn’t see me. He wouldn’t. Thanos Kalamidas I raised the .38, my finger tight on the trigger. The shot rang out, clean and quick. The sound of it was like a sharp slap against the air, the kind that makes your ears ring long after the moment’s passed. He didn’t even get a chance to scream. His body hit the floor with a thud that echoed down the hallway. I moved fast, my feet barely making a sound. The second man would be different. He wouldn’t be as careless. He’d be watching. He knew how to play this game. I could hear him now, the faint rustle of his coat as he shifted. The kind of man who never let his guard down, the kind who had learned the hard way to trust nothing, not even his own shadow. Damn it, Danny. Why did you have to leave me like this? I slipped through the back door into the next room. The darkness in here felt different, denser, more alive. The silence pressed in on me, almost suffocating. The man was in here, I was sure of it. I had to move. No second chances. I crept forward, my gun raised, my eyes scanning every corner. I was already three steps ahead. The man didn’t even know what was coming. From obituary to ...Oh crap! He was waiting by the far wall, eyes darting to the door. He hadn’t seen me yet. I could hear his breath, shallow but steady, the kind of rhythm that told me he knew what he was doing. The moment I stepped into the room, I fired. Not to kill, not yet. I wanted him to know I was still in control. The shot missed, but it was close enough to rattle him. He turned, eyes wide with surprise. But not fear. Never fear. That’s the difference between a man who lives to kill and one who’s just trying to stay alive. He wasn’t afraid of me. He was only afraid of the job, of the man who sent him. “Not bad, Johnny,” he said, his voice cold, like he was talking about the weather. He had a smirk on his face, the kind you wear when you’re used to being the one in control. “Better than you think,” I shot back, moving into a crouch. I knew this man. His name was Leonid, Russian, a background in military. He had the face of a man who had spent too many years killing for money. Too many years to know the difference between a man who wanted to stay alive and one who had nothing left to lose. Thanos Kalamidas “You should’ve stayed dead,” he said, cocking the hammer on his gun. That’s the problem with this city, I thought. Every- one wants to put you in the ground, but they never bury you deep enough. I dove for cover behind a nearby desk, my breath catching as the first shot tore through the air, bare- ly missing me. The force of it left my ears ringing. I could hear his steps now, the sound of his boots as he stalked across the floor, slow and deliberate. He knew how to play this game too. I wasn’t ready to die today. Not when I still had a shot at making it out. I reached for the desk drawer, pulled out a second gun, a backup. A little more firepower. I had a lot of tricks up my sleeve, and I wasn’t about to let this son of a bitch walk out of here alive. The moment his head appeared from behind the desk, I fired. The shot hit him in the shoulder, and he staggered back, his gun falling to the ground with a dull thud. But he wasn’t done yet. Not by a long shot. He reached for the knife at his belt, his eyes blazing with rage. From obituary to ...Oh crap! This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. I wasn’t sup- posed to be here, facing off with a man who had the same skills, the same bloodlust. This was supposed to be my escape. But the moment I pulled that trig- ger on Danny, on myself, on everything that came before I sealed my fate. I wasn’t running anymore. I was stuck. He lunged at me, faster than I expected, and I felt the blade graze my side. The pain shot through me, but I kept my hand steady on the gun. One more shot, Johnny. One more. I pulled the trigger. The room went silent again, but this time, it felt dif- ferent. This time, I knew I was the last man standing. But I could still feel it, the weight, the one that had been on me since Danny died. The feeling that noth- ing, not even death, could set me free. I staggered to my feet, my side burning. My breath was shallow. They’d send more. I knew it. The syn- dicate had too much invested in me. And I had too many enemies left to count. I took one last look around the room. The shadows were closing in. And I didn’t have much time. Thanos Kalamidas I slipped into the dark hallway again, the weight of my past pressing down harder than ever. It was only a matter of time before they sent someone else. Someone worse. Someone who wouldn’t miss. But right now? Right now, I was still breathing. And that had to be enough. * * * * * * The hallway was quiet now, but I could feel the dan- ger still lingering, like smoke after a fire. My heart was still hammering in my chest, and my breath, though shallow, was steady. I crouched behind an old crate, its wood splintered and cracked, the smell of damp cardboard hanging in the air. The kind of smell you’d associate with places where things go to die. It made me want to puke, but I had no time for that. The next move wasn’t mine to decide; it never was. This was the part of the game where the rules stopped making sense. You can’t play against a guy who knows every card in the deck, and I’d learned long ago that the house always wins. In my case, the house was a cold-eyed bastard who had more muscle than a bodybuilder convention, and the patience of a hungry snake. I hadn’t had a decent night’s sleep in weeks, and now, crouched in the dark, I was just waiting for the inevitable. From obituary to ...Oh crap! Then, I heard it. The unmistakable sound of boots on concrete. Not just any boots. These had the weight of a man who’d been walking through death for years. The sound echoed down the hallway, steady, slow. He was getting closer. I could hear his breath, too—qui- et, controlled, but there was something in it. It wasn’t a man hunting a rat. It was a man preparing for the kill. And I wasn’t going to be that easy. I gripped the gun tighter in my hand, fingers al- most numb from the sweat. I didn’t have much left. Just enough to finish this. He wasn’t going to catch me unawares. Not this time. The man stepped into the room, a silhouette in the low light. His face was hidden by shadows, but the outline of his body was unmistakable, tall, wide-shouldered, but there was something more to him. Something cold. Something calculated. I could feel it before he even moved. The game had already started. I squeezed the trigger. Thanos Kalamidas The sound of the gunshot was deafening in the si- lence. But it was like he knew. The bullet whizzed by, inches from his head. He was faster than I expected. Too fast. The next thing I knew, his hand was around my throat, and I was gasping for air like a fish strand- ed on dry land. His cold smile crept across his face. It was the kind of smile you’d see on a man who had buried enough bodies to forget what fear felt like. He didn’t say a word, didn’t need to. His hands told the story. His grip tightened, and my world started to spin. My vi- sion blurred, and the sound of blood pumping in my ears was deafening. I wasn’t ready to die yet. Not like this. You can’t go out like that. No, not Johnny Graves. Not yet. I didn’t have a choice. I didn’t need one. My body reacted on its own, on instinct. With all the strength I had left, I twisted, bringing my knee up into his gut. The gasp of air that left his chest was sweet music to my ears. His grip loosened just enough for me to break free. I shoved him back, stumbling backward into the crate I had been hiding behind. The pain in my throat was unbearable, but I ignored it. It wasn’t time for weakness. From obituary to ...Oh crap! I reached for my gun, my only friend in this god- forsaken city. But as my fingers wrapped around it, I realized something. He had one too. In that moment, it was like time froze. My hand was steady, my finger tight on the trigger. But so was his. He was already aiming at me. I could see his arm raise, the barrel of the gun gleaming in the dim light. His eyes locked onto mine. There was no hesitation in his gaze. He wasn’t here to play games. He wasn’t here to talk. He was here to finish the job. It was a deadly dance. One that wouldn’t end until one of us was on the floor, cold and lifeless. In the split second before he pulled the trigger, I squeezed mine. The shot rang out like a crack of thunder, echoing through the room. His shot went wide, missing me by inches. I didn’t wait to see the result. I couldn’t. I heard his body hit the ground, and I thought for a brief moment, just a brief, glorious moment that maybe, just maybe, this was over. But as the smoke from the gunshot swirled in the room, something caught my eye, something that made my blood freeze in my veins. A figure in the doorway. Thanos Kalamidas A silhouette. Taller than the rest, broader, with the faint outline of something shiny at his side. This wasn’t just any goon. This was someone worse. Someone who was already too close. The room was spinning. My head was still ringing from the gunshot. I had to move, but my body wasn’t obeying. I stumbled back against the wall, clutching the gun like it was my last lifeline. “You’re not going anywhere, Johnny,” the new guy’s voice was deep, gravelly, and calm, like he had all the time in the world. But I could hear the tension be- neath it. The kind of tension you only hear when a man is about to end your life. The first guy, Leonid, was still lying on the floor, his face frozen in a final grimace of surprise. I couldn’t believe it. I had done it. I had killed him. But now, this new guy, he was the one I had to deal with. The one who was going to take my head. “You thought you could run, didn’t you?” he asked, slowly advancing. He had that look. The look that says he’s been to hell and back and he didn’t mind doing it again if it meant you were going with him. His hand moved to the gun at his side, and I realized