I've had this idea for a short story sitting in my head for quite a while, so I'm putting here (This is part one):
Darkness. It consumes you but in it you find solace. You find an end to the life of evil you've lived for five years. You are comforted by the thought that you will never kill again. Or will you? The inky darkness which has enveloped you begins to fade. You're wading through it toward a light.... But, no it's not heaven. You are not dead. The point is driven home when you are greeted by PAIN! You burst into the light. A man in blue stands above light scrolls by above him, slowly and not without effort your vision clears.
"SQUEAK, SQUEAK!"
Wheels. You hear them. They need oil.
"Christ, he's bleeding bad. Massive internal hemmoraging."
"Eighteen bullets to the chest. He should be dead."
"We need to get him into OR stat"
You realize it.You really aren't dead. Doctors surround you they all are talking and walking fast as they push your stretcher. Lights flash by overhead. The Doctor looks down at you. Your eyes meet. For once you don't see fear or loathing at the pain you cause. You see..........concern.
"He's conscious!"
His voice reaches your ears slowly like your under the sea.
Sir, you've been shot multiple times, and have suffered a fall from a fifth story window on to a passing car. You might have spinnal damage. I need information, first your name; Do you remember it?"
"Listen, I need you to stay with me here. Don't go to sleep."
Your eyes become heavy the darkness begins to creep in again over your eyes. Like someone pouring ink in to the water it spreads out.
"NO! Stay conscious!" "Now what's your name!"
Slowly you look up. Your mouth opens, you can taste the blood that cakes your mouth.
Slowly with a voice young yet strained with more than physical pain you whisper:
" I am the Shepeard. I bring death as an assasin for evil incarnate.
He is a man.
His name is Money, and his evil knows no bounds."
The darkness consumes you once again.
PT. 2
They fly at you faster than sound. Faster then your eyes. But you don't need to see them. The bullets that is. You don't need to see because you can feel them tearing their way through your soft flesh. You feel their hot intensity. their anger as they burrow their way into your body. You fall back into the darkness.
Slowly your eyes open. You hear the steady beeping of the heart monitor to your left. Each beep constantly reaffirming your survival.
You're in a small privat hospital room the nightstand sits at your right. Slowly you gaze down at your arm, you stare at the I.V. helping to keep you alive. The sheets, they're so heavy on your legs......
His voice breaks the silence.
"Glad to see you're up. You've been asleep for about 12 hours..... Can't blame you though, if I'd suffered as much as you I'd sleep that long too."
He's standing at the foot of your bed. Staring......
"My name's Dr. Kelvin, and I'd like to know why you're here."
You answer quickly:
"i'm here because I was shot and fell out a window, but that isn't what you meant now was it? No, of course not you want to know why someone tried to kill me, right?"
"Something like that, yeah."
"i'm here because I chose to let my guard down. I'm here because I tried to get away from him..."
" Money."
You spit his name out, force it from your lips.
"What do you mean 'let my guard down' ."
You stare at the heart monitor.
"Beep......Beep......Beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee......."
You've removed the heart monitor pads from your chest. You look Dr.Kelvin in the eye and speak almost in a whisper it hurts so much to remember:
"Have you ever been loved, I mean loved in a way that makes living each day important?"
He remains silent. You look into his eyesand see yourself reflected in them small. So very, very small.....
"Well I have and it nearly cost me my life":
You stare at the door in front of you. Waves of disbelief wash over you. In your head the words "It's almost over." run through yor mind like mice in a maze. You and her together. No more death, no more living in the darkness. With her guiding you, you can finally step into the light and face what you been for the past five years. You've finally regained your soul. you say these words to yourself as you slide the key into your apartments doorknob. You push it open. Darkness lies before you. You step into it, turn push the door closed . You stand in the darkness but it doesn't consume you. You look toward the windows,where light from the bright world outside would shine if you hadn't painted the windows black those few years ago when you became a Reaper. An asassain of the deadliest skill. A personal servant of Money. The night was the only place where you could face your own exisitenece. Only in the dark could you face what you've become.
Your spine shivers as a chill runs down it. You're not alone. You spin around, your mind pushing away the comforting thoughts you think only of your next move. As you spin your right hand moves for The Staff. You titanium Desert Eagle. After all what good is a Shepeard without his staff? It glides easily from it's holster, and it feels light in your hands.... The Staff is no longer a mere gun. it's an extension of your being. When it's in your hands the magestic weapon comes alive, it takes a personality all it's own. Your jacket flies in the air as you bring The Staff to where you know your unseen advasery is. You don't need sight. Living in darkness has it's advantages.You don't hesitate. Your finger pulls back on the cold trigger.
"Click......"
It's all you hear. The sound of a bullet exploding from the end of The Staff is absent. You don't hear the sound of a bullet making a neat tiny hole on it's way into a skull and a larger much messier one on the way out. You don't hear the reassuring splat of blood on the far wall. In the time you've wielded The Staff it's never misfired, and it's always had bullets. You realize it finally:
"It's empty"
A cold voice cuts through the darkness. A gun fires and instantly sunlight explodes behind your attacker and spills over his shoulders. Your staring down the barrels of dark red twin machine pistols. His Fangs. You suddenly realize who's in front of you.
"The Snake"
The name is recalled as he smiles. His teeth, razor sharp from years of filing them; they gleam at you he emmits a low chuckle. He enjoys this. He always has. He kills not for money, not for pride, but for the pure pleasure of causing death and destruction.
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