Boulevard Novels & Stories

"The place is on Broken Sound Boulevard." They drove the rest of the way in silence. Once they pulled in towards the entrance to the neighborhood, it began to pour.

The valet stand at L’Ermitage was accustomed to high-end machinery. Usually, a line of sleek silver Mercedes and the occasional matte-black Bentley formed a muted parade of wealth. But as the clock struck one, a sound tore through the refined atmosphere of the boulevard—a mechanical, predatory shriek that bounced off the glass storefronts like a physical blow.

“If you want to get her attention, you know what to do, Dimitri, or are you trying to come up with another plan? Louis asked, clicking his tongue. Dimitri narrowed his eyes at the building ahead before signaling his driver to go. They drove past his company’s headquarters and continued downtown until they reached a secluded landmark with a single name etched on it: ‘DIMI.’ Soon, the car rolled to a stop in front of a grand estate, a mansion.

I vowed and ignited the car, it rumbled to life and I drove off. While on the road, my phone buzzed and I checked it. Lydia had sent me her location and time of the dinner. I smirked when I saw the place that she chose. Downtown boulevard. It was a neutral ground for everyone so as long as they followed the one rule that governed the place. No mafia business was allowed. Downtown Boulevard was a place where celebrities and sports stars hung out. It was where the bored rich kids went to mingle with actors, movie makers, and runway models. A social paradise.

He says this with a conviction that chills me. The car leaves the main roads, enters a maze of narrow, silent streets, lined with high walls and discreet gates. Here, the air itself seems different: heavier, laden with the scent of old money, of power hiding behind sober facades, of well-watered secrets. He parks with surgical precision before an austere entrance. Only a patinated brass plate, discreetly lit, betrays the place: "Le Cénacle". A name that smells of conspiracy and exclusivity.

"This is—wow." Zac chuckled softly. "My grandfather was a big reader. He quoted literature as if he were a human book himself." I turned to look at Zac, my eyes lit up. "Zac, this is amazing." Zac shrugged nonchalantly, smiling. "I thought you'd like it." He walked over to one wall, skimming the shelves until he pulled out a book. "I wanted you to have this." I looked at the book he held out for me to take. It was called "Bloom" by Kelle Hampton. I smiled at the title, meeting his eyes. "Wha—but why?"

She noticed a cat jump out of the nearest dumpster when it sensed her presence, Champagne raised her fist and knocked on the wooden door. She looked around this place and sighed, she knew that she had no right to judge but the only comforting thing in this area was the road that passed through the silent. "Shut up " there was a scream from the house across the street and a glass bottle was thrown out crashing in to pieces by the road side. Champagne felt a chill rush through her veins just as the door opened. " What is it that you really love about this place ?" She asking Samantha while forcing her way in.

The gates fell soon after. There was a mad rush to enter the city of Muzagah and destroy every living human. Having being in suspense for hours; anticipating and visualizing what they desired: the rape and the sharing of treasures; they drove in furiously into Muzagah with the intention to kill and destroy properties. Suddenly, the sound of a trumpet filled their ears. It was a signal to stop. Prince Habeb had ordered a trumpeter to send the desperate soldiers his message. It wasn’t yet time for the killing game to begin.

I slowly walk home thinking about Charlotte and the things my mum had told me. It was hard to focus in the bar with the anonymous Micah commanding my attention - completely my fault by the way. Anyone would think I was a love-sick teenager and not a grown woman. If Charlotte were here she would have teased me relentlessly. As I walk, I suddenly hear brakes screeching and then a loud scream. Looking up I can see a dark blue Chevrolet has failed to stop and has hit what looks like a teenage boy. I immediately call 911 before running over to assess the damage. The car has mounted the curb and has pinned this poor boy by his leg underneath it. His screams are ferocious and I panic not knowing wh