thewriter9813
01-10-2014, 09:05 PM
Hi guys, I wrote a new story and feedback on this would be great. I hope you like it.
Flashing blue and red lights sped past the traffic lights on 21st Avenue. They had nearly caught me again. Seeing an average old woman; curling grey hair surrounding a soft face with wrinkled features, dressed in a pink floral dress, they passed me. Unrecognised and innocent in this cloaked form, I wandered across the street. My destination was only a block away and with my skills, knowledge and elemental talents my mission will be complete within the hour. I looked around the street before disappearing into the alley, silent and determined. I crept to the end and started scaling a fire escape to get to the roof. Dodging missing steps and faulty railings I pulled myself up and ran. As I jumped from rooftop to rooftop, pushing myself along with the wind, I count in my head, ‘4, 5…9, 10’: my destination. I pulled my phone from my pocket, checking the message I received earlier.
Harrier Bay, Apartment 320, Blue Ockel Hotel, Greenwich Street.
I knew this apartment. I entered the building through the roof door and took the elevator to the 4th floor. This part of my job was always the hardest; eliminating a threat to our community. I knocked on door 320 and after a moment, put my force into kicking the door down. It spun off its hinges with a thunderous crash. Walking inside a scuttle of movement caught my attention.
“Don’t bother,” I stated in a bored tone. How these people thought they could escape was a mystery to me. Another rustle followed from the back room and a screech from an opening window. The sound of traffic below rushed in; blazing horns and wailing police sirens. I walked into the back room, my boots echoing off the tiled floor, I stopped. A young boy, no older than fifteen, stood at the window. He was wearing Bart Simpson pyjamas, his hair wild against the breeze and wide brown eyes staring at me.
“Please,” he whispered with a tear against his cheek, “don’t hurt me.”
“Are you Harrier Bay?” I asked and after hesitation, looking at the floor, he nodded.
“Harrier, may I ask, why are you begging for mercy when, after many warnings, you never stopped searching? You know about our lives, our stories, our deaths - many like your father’s - and yet, when we asked if you wanted this life you refused it.”
“I don’t want your life. I just want to know the secrets. There are many things my father never told me that I want to know.” He said, tears now streaking his blood red face from anger. While braced against the window he stared furiously at me, then in a confident voice he said, “You can’t harm me; the police are surrounding the building.”
From the look of the shadows outside, lighting up in red and blue, I knew he wasn’t lying. He would have called the police when he realised he was in danger.
“What do I look like to you Harrier?”
“What do you think you look like?” He yelled at me. “You look the way you always have, dark brown hair and eyes, tall and young.”
“I’m using a grounding spell on mortal eyes to make me look like a fragile old women. They will never guess who I am. The only reason you can see my true form is because you know who I am.”
Harrier looked resigned then; the truth of my words dawning on him. He knew he was going to die. No amount of arguments could stop it. He looked out the window, taking in his last breaths. I pulled the knife out of its strap, inside my boot leg, and walked up to him.
“Harrier, I will give you this one chance and once you’ve made the decision there is no changing your mind. This is also against the rules and can get me killed, but you father was very close to me, and I’ll give you this chance in payback for the time he saved mine. If you swear your alliance to me, join our world and forget this one, I’ll spare your life. If you don’t and still choose to place mine life and many other lives in danger, for the sake of your knowledge, I will kill you here and now.”
“Have you been planning this all along?” he asked, his breathing ragged and strained, looking bewildered. I nodded. “Why?”
“Because your father spared me my life 12 years ago after I disobeyed the Conciliul Magie. As I never repaid your father in life, I will do it now in death,” I said.
Harrier’s face, now only red from the cold in the room, was sad but contemplating. I didn’t know how this decision would be hard, it was never hard for me, and yet he didn’t seem to know what to choose. Walking over to the window I looked out at the scene below. Police cars lined up everywhere, blocking the entrance from spectators. They seemed to be searching the area and talking to hotel staff, probably, about the mysterious phone call. The sirens were off but their lights still flashed against the dark street. My association with the magical laws of Stygian gave me away as a criminal in the governments mind but a leader in Stygian. That was a struggle to wrap my head around how can one be a criminal and someone to respect all at once.
Harrier standing next to me whispered, “I don’t want to go.”
“Suit yourself.” I said and took a deep, shaking breath in.
I lifted the knife, still in my hand, and turned to face him. He was standing facing the window. He had stopped crying; accepting the fact he was going to die. Stupid kid, I thought, no one would choose to die when they have the chance to live. He didn’t move or scream when I jammed the knife into the left side of his back. Taught from a young age, ready to defend myself, kill, disarm and harm an opponent. I had dug the knife straight up and through his heart. He hit the floor with a thud and gargled blood frothed from his mouth. I lifted the knife and walked out the apartment tucking it into my boot. My disguise was slowly fading and so I hoped I would make it outside before that happened. The police have my picture as a ‘most wanted’ criminal, so I needed to be the old lady to escape.
Walking out the door the police looked straight at me but from their softening expressions I knew I still had a disguise. I started sobbing as the head officer walked towards me, wailing in a shaky voice, “the poor boy, the poor boy.”
“Ma’am, what happened? Do you any information about the killer?” He held up a picture that looked like me.
“Her,” I screamed, “She’s in apartment 320.” The officer nodded and dismissed me. I slowly scuttled into the alley before they saw me, as I truly am. Another mission, another death; I headed back to Stygian, ready for the next mission and the end of another life.
Flashing blue and red lights sped past the traffic lights on 21st Avenue. They had nearly caught me again. Seeing an average old woman; curling grey hair surrounding a soft face with wrinkled features, dressed in a pink floral dress, they passed me. Unrecognised and innocent in this cloaked form, I wandered across the street. My destination was only a block away and with my skills, knowledge and elemental talents my mission will be complete within the hour. I looked around the street before disappearing into the alley, silent and determined. I crept to the end and started scaling a fire escape to get to the roof. Dodging missing steps and faulty railings I pulled myself up and ran. As I jumped from rooftop to rooftop, pushing myself along with the wind, I count in my head, ‘4, 5…9, 10’: my destination. I pulled my phone from my pocket, checking the message I received earlier.
Harrier Bay, Apartment 320, Blue Ockel Hotel, Greenwich Street.
I knew this apartment. I entered the building through the roof door and took the elevator to the 4th floor. This part of my job was always the hardest; eliminating a threat to our community. I knocked on door 320 and after a moment, put my force into kicking the door down. It spun off its hinges with a thunderous crash. Walking inside a scuttle of movement caught my attention.
“Don’t bother,” I stated in a bored tone. How these people thought they could escape was a mystery to me. Another rustle followed from the back room and a screech from an opening window. The sound of traffic below rushed in; blazing horns and wailing police sirens. I walked into the back room, my boots echoing off the tiled floor, I stopped. A young boy, no older than fifteen, stood at the window. He was wearing Bart Simpson pyjamas, his hair wild against the breeze and wide brown eyes staring at me.
“Please,” he whispered with a tear against his cheek, “don’t hurt me.”
“Are you Harrier Bay?” I asked and after hesitation, looking at the floor, he nodded.
“Harrier, may I ask, why are you begging for mercy when, after many warnings, you never stopped searching? You know about our lives, our stories, our deaths - many like your father’s - and yet, when we asked if you wanted this life you refused it.”
“I don’t want your life. I just want to know the secrets. There are many things my father never told me that I want to know.” He said, tears now streaking his blood red face from anger. While braced against the window he stared furiously at me, then in a confident voice he said, “You can’t harm me; the police are surrounding the building.”
From the look of the shadows outside, lighting up in red and blue, I knew he wasn’t lying. He would have called the police when he realised he was in danger.
“What do I look like to you Harrier?”
“What do you think you look like?” He yelled at me. “You look the way you always have, dark brown hair and eyes, tall and young.”
“I’m using a grounding spell on mortal eyes to make me look like a fragile old women. They will never guess who I am. The only reason you can see my true form is because you know who I am.”
Harrier looked resigned then; the truth of my words dawning on him. He knew he was going to die. No amount of arguments could stop it. He looked out the window, taking in his last breaths. I pulled the knife out of its strap, inside my boot leg, and walked up to him.
“Harrier, I will give you this one chance and once you’ve made the decision there is no changing your mind. This is also against the rules and can get me killed, but you father was very close to me, and I’ll give you this chance in payback for the time he saved mine. If you swear your alliance to me, join our world and forget this one, I’ll spare your life. If you don’t and still choose to place mine life and many other lives in danger, for the sake of your knowledge, I will kill you here and now.”
“Have you been planning this all along?” he asked, his breathing ragged and strained, looking bewildered. I nodded. “Why?”
“Because your father spared me my life 12 years ago after I disobeyed the Conciliul Magie. As I never repaid your father in life, I will do it now in death,” I said.
Harrier’s face, now only red from the cold in the room, was sad but contemplating. I didn’t know how this decision would be hard, it was never hard for me, and yet he didn’t seem to know what to choose. Walking over to the window I looked out at the scene below. Police cars lined up everywhere, blocking the entrance from spectators. They seemed to be searching the area and talking to hotel staff, probably, about the mysterious phone call. The sirens were off but their lights still flashed against the dark street. My association with the magical laws of Stygian gave me away as a criminal in the governments mind but a leader in Stygian. That was a struggle to wrap my head around how can one be a criminal and someone to respect all at once.
Harrier standing next to me whispered, “I don’t want to go.”
“Suit yourself.” I said and took a deep, shaking breath in.
I lifted the knife, still in my hand, and turned to face him. He was standing facing the window. He had stopped crying; accepting the fact he was going to die. Stupid kid, I thought, no one would choose to die when they have the chance to live. He didn’t move or scream when I jammed the knife into the left side of his back. Taught from a young age, ready to defend myself, kill, disarm and harm an opponent. I had dug the knife straight up and through his heart. He hit the floor with a thud and gargled blood frothed from his mouth. I lifted the knife and walked out the apartment tucking it into my boot. My disguise was slowly fading and so I hoped I would make it outside before that happened. The police have my picture as a ‘most wanted’ criminal, so I needed to be the old lady to escape.
Walking out the door the police looked straight at me but from their softening expressions I knew I still had a disguise. I started sobbing as the head officer walked towards me, wailing in a shaky voice, “the poor boy, the poor boy.”
“Ma’am, what happened? Do you any information about the killer?” He held up a picture that looked like me.
“Her,” I screamed, “She’s in apartment 320.” The officer nodded and dismissed me. I slowly scuttled into the alley before they saw me, as I truly am. Another mission, another death; I headed back to Stygian, ready for the next mission and the end of another life.