Yodaisthebes
10-31-2012, 06:53 AM
Hello, a short piece I wrote. It still has no name yet, please try to think of one!
Father Ted Roonslav hurried along the smooth marble floor, his sandals tapping and echoing around the church room. He quickly peered over his shoulder, nothing. His mind set on escaping the tall figure that attacked him earlier tonight. Ted carried on through the church, past the many rows of long wooden seats and took a right turn towards the South Transept. He caught a glimpse of a silhouette in his peripheral vision.
It was as if fear had grasped him, he was almost running now, through a brown wooden door into a back room. Religious ornaments meant nothing now; God was not going to help him this time. He latched the door behind him, and opened a second door leading up some stairs to a small balcony looking over the church hall. Taking the stairs two at a time, Ted looked back to the door, the attacker was ferociously hitting it, trying to break the latch and have a second go at murdering the priest.
Ted clutched the bronze bar to his left, and eventually, after some effort by 60 year old man, he had reached the top. His hand clutched the next door, downstairs he heard a bang and the ping of metal. The attacker was in. Ted opened the door, and looked down onto his church. The shadows crept onto the room; it was a late night after all.
Behind him, Ted heard the **** of a gun. The priest had fought, ran and hidden, but his fate was inevitable. He clambered up onto the railing of the balcony. In his hand he held a cross, the other a bible. “God!” He cried “Forgive my soul!” The door behind him swung open, connecting with Father Ted, causing the old man to fall from the balcony. The killer looked down, and was horrified by what had happened.
Father Ted was always close to God. He was compelled when he first heard the story of Jesus and the Cross. Tonight, however, he suffered a fate which also involved a cross. He fell, and was impaled by a large wooden cross on the stand where he took sermons. The killer turned, and started walking. He had killed the man he was supposed to kill. It was done.
Father Ted Roonslav hurried along the smooth marble floor, his sandals tapping and echoing around the church room. He quickly peered over his shoulder, nothing. His mind set on escaping the tall figure that attacked him earlier tonight. Ted carried on through the church, past the many rows of long wooden seats and took a right turn towards the South Transept. He caught a glimpse of a silhouette in his peripheral vision.
It was as if fear had grasped him, he was almost running now, through a brown wooden door into a back room. Religious ornaments meant nothing now; God was not going to help him this time. He latched the door behind him, and opened a second door leading up some stairs to a small balcony looking over the church hall. Taking the stairs two at a time, Ted looked back to the door, the attacker was ferociously hitting it, trying to break the latch and have a second go at murdering the priest.
Ted clutched the bronze bar to his left, and eventually, after some effort by 60 year old man, he had reached the top. His hand clutched the next door, downstairs he heard a bang and the ping of metal. The attacker was in. Ted opened the door, and looked down onto his church. The shadows crept onto the room; it was a late night after all.
Behind him, Ted heard the **** of a gun. The priest had fought, ran and hidden, but his fate was inevitable. He clambered up onto the railing of the balcony. In his hand he held a cross, the other a bible. “God!” He cried “Forgive my soul!” The door behind him swung open, connecting with Father Ted, causing the old man to fall from the balcony. The killer looked down, and was horrified by what had happened.
Father Ted was always close to God. He was compelled when he first heard the story of Jesus and the Cross. Tonight, however, he suffered a fate which also involved a cross. He fell, and was impaled by a large wooden cross on the stand where he took sermons. The killer turned, and started walking. He had killed the man he was supposed to kill. It was done.