Author: Nightmare's Accomplice PM
In 2012, A horrible disease spread through the release of the toxic wastes from cars wiped out the planet. Only a select race called 'Thistans' and those who wanted to survive held on through the dark times. Now, 4000 years later, James Hawkeye wants to make things right again... But he gets tangled in an even bigger plot. T for gore in later chapters and language now.Rated: Fiction T - English - Sci-Fi/Fantasy - Chapters: 7 - Words: 7,718 - Reviews: 11 - Favs: 3 - Follows: 4 - Updated: 04-10-13 - Published: 09-19-12 - id: 3059556
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
5 years ago
If I was miraculously given the chance to return to the past and choose my other option, I would do it in a heartbeat. But I can't, I won't, and I shouldn't.
These were my thoughts as I raced away from the store with two average sized bags.
Bags full of food and some other substance.
I'd never attempted this kind of thievery before, and I sincerely regret attempting it now. The bags were extremely heavy and barely fit on my shoulders, and I was already tired out from running all the way here. He was catching up to me, running at a pace I would have never expected. I took a deep breath and coughed, the foul city stench proving to be too much for my nose. Instead I chose to take much smaller breaths, and turned at the nearest corner. I might have actually made it to what I prefer to call my home if the girl sitting on the bench hadn't stuck her legs out just in time for me to trip over them.
"James..." She scolded, "Stealing is wrong!" I jumped up and snatched the bags, throwing them onto the girl's bench and ran, shouting, "Have fun, Takura! I'm sure Mr. Hours will appreciate your gift!"
Said girl immediately popped out of her seat and ran past me, and we left the stolen goods for another time.
Which, to my surprise, were still there when Takura and I came back for them. The first bag was stuffed with wrapped baked goods and various sweets. The aroma was a great relief compared to what I usually smell in Reginleif. Takura jammed her hand into it and pulled out a box of doughnuts, handing me one while picking up another with her mouth.
The second bag was an assortment of gears, springs, and other pieces of metal. There was around fifty or sixty thousand worth of denari bills in there. I could smell the grease, and the money.
"We can make... so much..." I started, astonished.
"Money..." Takura finished. She stared at me intensely before I finally said, "I was going to say change, but that works too-" We we interrupted by a shout from across the street. The man was bald and short, wielding a baker's pan and a few empty bags.
"Hey!" He shouted. Crap, it was Mr. Hours. "You little rats are gonna pay!"
Normally, the ideal would be to run in this situation, but apparently neither Takura nor I realized this and in a moment I was on the ground trying to catch my breath and Takura was slumped against the wall.
"Damn Thistans," Hours said, kicking me once in the back. "Look at you. You're so pathetic, you have to stoop down to thievery? Can't you just accept that the world doesn't like you?" I received kick after kick after kick, until I couldn't hold back any of my rage. I, despite the pain, rolled onto my stomach and crawled away from Mr. Hours. Leaping up onto my feet I snatched the pan from his hand and beat him across the head with it.
I could feel my face turn bright red with rage as I shouted.
"You think it's our fault the world changed?!" I held the pan in my left as I punched him. "You think it's our fault this happened?!" I used the pan this time, and I could feel the blood on my face and hear a bone or two crack.
"You think Thistans wanted to be immune!? Huh?! You did, didn't you?!" Hours muttered something incoherent. I ignored him and kept banging.
"It's people like you that make this world sick!"
A whack, a bang, and the sound of splattering.
Everything is a blur. I feel spit dripping from the ends of my lips and the warmth of blood on my face. I think Takura is shaking me. She's saying something, but I can't make out the words.
A smacking sound erupted from my cheek as she slapped me, and I gasped as I regained focus. Mr. Hours was undoubtedly dead. I couldn't even make out the details of his face; It was covered in too much blood. Shakily, I held my hands to my face. They were dirtied with a beautiful shade of crimson. Finally, my ears start to work again and I can hear the cars racing and the people shouting. And last but not least, I can make out what Takura is saying.
"The police! The police are coming!"
I can hear the sirens now, and my heart pounds in my chest as I try and figure out what to do. Confession would be suicide; I'm already a thief. And one horrible, evil thought comes to mind:
Kill them. You've done it before.
Hey, how is everybody! So if you're confused, the first chapter I posted was more of an experimental chapter. This is what my real writing looks like...