Author: CarterTheWolf PM
So this is just a short story I wrote for English. It is about a man named Damien who winds up getting slammed into the middle of a dispuit between his boss and some not so nice hench men. In haste to figure how to stay alive, Damien finds the shocking truth that he wished he left alone.Rated: Fiction T - English - Fantasy/Mystery - Chapters: 3 - Words: 2,723 - Published: 06-11-12 - Status: Complete - id: 3031118
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The next day, Mr. Tarner was found dead, lying on a dirt road, twenty miles from Kedington.
Damien walked down the gray street, his head bowed down in despair. All this time, Mr. Tarner had made an idiotic deal with two killers over an article! He kicked a small stone and it flew into the long grass. If only he hadn't waited and gone to the stupid Dance Hall! His boss trusted him with his life and Damien had let him down.
He wondered why the article was so important and tried to remember what it was about. Mr. Tarner had told him to write about the two murders in Birmingham. Apparently, a mother and a father were found ripped apart in their own homes. A man named Savio Marshells was responsible. The disgusting psycho had chopped them into pieces with a chainsaw and deliberately placed the weapon next to the bodies. Mr. Tarner specifically told him to write that Marshells would not be charged with the murder since his DNA did not match up in the crime scene, but it was plainly him because every other piece of evidence linked to him. It was indeed confusing.
Whispers reached Damien's ears and he thought he heard the gruff voice of Max. He looked around the corner and his mouth opened in shock. There were the two men, Jeff and Max and they were standing in front of Alana! Damien was ready to throw himself to the rescue, but paused. Alana didn't seem scared, only angry. She was poking Max in the shoulder.
"You ingrates! I told you to make sure that the article was done! If the people don't find out that Savio wasn't charged, then we're done for! Those cops could discover who really killed those parents and where would that leave us? You both in jail! Once they find out who you're linked to, then our whole system could go up in flames! I didn't move here from America to end up in jail!"
Damien took a step back. Alana controlled these monsters? Why would she kill those parents and blame Savio Marshells? He hurried away, not wanting to hear more. Those poor people. Maybe they weren't the only ones to be killed by her and her society. How big was their system anyways? Damien thought that he had found his prefect wife, but she only turned out to be a monster. He opened the door of his house and lowered himself onto the couch, thinking about what he was to do.
Damien suddenly got an idea and quickly walked over to the desk in the lving room. He slid out the drawer and found a small safe. Damien place the safe onto the desk and turned to lock. It clicked into place. Damien opened the door and sitting on the velvet floor was a small red bag. He took out the bag and opened the top, grabbing a round object that was inside. It was a golden stop watch with diamond encrusted hands, but the watch stood still and unmoving. Damien turned the hands of the watch manually to go back thirteen years. He then slowly pressed down on the reset button and the hands spun to life. A bright light flashed before Damien's eyes.
The next thing he knew, he was standing in front of a small house. Trees loomed in the darkness and the half moon shown brightly in the pitch black sky. Damien saw that a single window was open and crack, so he curled his fingers around the edge and lifted up the window. He took the webbed net and pulled it out, setting it beside the house. Damien climbed into the window and looked around. He was in a quaint kitchen.
Damien walked to the counter and saw a steak knife was lying on a square cutting board. He seized it and looked around until he spotted stairs. Damien ascended up the carpet covered stairs and reached the second floor. He found a room marked with the letter A and grabbed the handle, slowly turning it.
Inside, it was even darker than in the grass. Damien stumbled almost clumsily through the room until he reached a bedpost. He followed he post up to where a teenage girl was sleeping soundly. Closing his eyes, he raised the knife, ready to strike it down.
But he couldn't. Damien could not kill Alana, the woman he had met at that dance hall seemingly so many days ago. He lowered the knife, but then thought back to who she was to become; a murderer, a monster. This was the same girl who killed Mr. Tarner, and those parents, and who would eventually kill him. So Damien swallowed the guilt and pain in his heart and plunged the knife into her heart.
He quickly darted away and crashed into the window and fell. Damien clicked the reset button once more. The ground was flying towards him and he could see the singular blades of grass perfectly when a huge bright light blinded him.
Damien thudded to the ground and slammed onto the dirt road. He moaned and curled up in pain just as he saw two large figures rushing toward him. He looked at the watch and saw that it had a long crack through it. Damien blinked his eyes and saw something horrifying. Instead of his house, there was an enormous factory building with black silos and smoke hurtling up into the ash-filled sky.
The two figures moved in closer and one of them grabbed him by the collar in one monster-sized hand and yanked him up into the air. Damien peered through slits and saw that it was no other than Max, the brute who had personally enjoyed tearing Mr. Tarner up to pieces.
"Hey Jeff, look who we found here; it's the traitor. I say we wring his neck and give him to Brytt. He'll take care of the little traitor." Max laughed hysterically.
Jeff propped up a long shot gun, "No, Max, we should kill him right here. Brytt will never think we did it. He'd just believe that Mantel ended up dead on his own accord."
Max nodded and grinned toothily. Damien felt a cold barrel pressed next to his temple. A loud bang exploded in his ears and the last thing he heard was a cruel laughter more terrible than evil itself.