Short story I'm writing for creative writing.
- Locked due to inactivity on Aug 4, '16 4:21pm
Thread Topic: Short story I'm writing for creative writing.
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John sat there huddled in the corner of the room. Battered, bruised, and beater his breathing was both shaky and hoarse. And yet he still sat there, scribbling out a message as fast as he could.
~"My name is John Petrichor; I was born August 6th 1730 AD, and I am immortal"
John carefully slid over to the wall of his 3rd story apartment on the outskirts of town and peeked his head out the window. From his high up vantage point, he could see the parking lot, the street, and the buildings across the ways. He could make out the shape of a large SUV pulling into the parking lot. His vision blurred with pain as he remembered the last time he had seen that vehicle. It had been only a few days before when he was on the run. He had been beaten and escaped before they could take him away. Although now it seemed like they found him. As he regained his vision he could make out the shapes of four men getting out and heading towards his building.
"Ana? Do you have your bags ready yet?" John called out through the door way leading from their cramped living room into the rest of the apartment. Without waiting for a response, John went back to writing his message.
~"The current date is July 29th 2012, and by the time you read this, I will be dead..."
"Yes Uncle John, my bags are packed." Called out a young lady from beyond the doorway. "Why do I have to leave early again?"
"Like I said sweet heart, I have to take care of a few things first. Ill catch up with you though. Youll see. By the way, bring your bags in here, and double check the house to make sure we didnt forget anything. "
The young lady skipped into view. She wouldnt look a day over fifteen if John hadnt known better. He had raised her since 1822 after all. She set her bags down, and then turned around to look through everything again. As Ana left the room, John thought he could hear the sound of people running up the staircase. But he ignored it. Worrying wouldnt give them any more time.
~"I am sending this letter with my niece, Ana. She is in as much danger as I, and I can no longer guarantee her safety.
Sincerely, John "
John folded up the letter and slipped in into Anas bag; tucking it away so that she wouldnt find it until she was far away.
"House is clear, Uncle John." Said Ana as she stepped back into the front room.
"Good. Although its time to go now sweet heart. Dont forget your bag."
"Youll be right behind me, right?"
"Of course sweet heart."
With that last statement, Ana gave John a hug, picked up her bags, and walked out the door. John closed his eyes and listened to her footsteps growing fainter and fainter as she walked down the hall. The storm of sound as the men ran up the stairs passed by hers. They hadnt seen her the last time, so why should they stop her? And she hadnt seen them, so why should she think anything of it? John listened as they passed right by each other without pause. He waited as they grew nearer and nearer before finally, a loud thudding knock on the door echoed through the house.
"Open the door, immortal. We know youre in there." Echoed a voice through the door.
John smiled. "And what if I am?" He asked; buying Ana more time to get further away.
His question was met with the sound of a loud thud, followed by a splintering crack as the door gave way behind the force of a kick. A man in a dark suit then stepped out and aimed his weapon at John.
"Dont move immortal." Said the man who had been speaking before.
"Where would I go?" Asked John almost comically.
"Dont care. Youve slipped by once already. Im not letting it happen again."
"And how do you intend to keep me here?"
"Like this." And with those last words, the gun in the mans hand barked a single bullet. John, the immortal, was dead.
Later on, as the men were searching the body, one of them pulled a picture out of Johns wallet. It was an old grainy photo from nearly 70 years ago. It showed a little girl holding hands with her teenage uncle.
"Hey boss", one of the men called out.
"Yeah?" responded the one who had killed John.
"Look at this picture. Do you think there were two of them?"
The man looked at the picture, recognizing the person he had just shot as the older boy, and then looking down at the girl next to him.
"I doubt it. We shot the only one we ever saw."
"Yeah, I guess youre right."
The picture was tucked back into the wallet and forgotten about. -
:'c It's so beautiful, but sad..
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;n; damn...
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;u; Whut. Why didn't they kill the girl.
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