10-28-2010, 04:01 AM
My first story,just something I had bouncing around in my head. Finally got a title for it, so I thought I'd post it. Enjoy!
10-28-2010, 04:05 AM
11 years ago,New York City
New York City is a slum home. It's rock bottom, the last stop before hell, it's a place where if you walk down the wrong street, make a wrong turn, or say the wrong thing you will disappear and no one will question it.
New york city has a will of it own, and it's people have no choice to follow.
You mind your own and nothing will happen. Maybe that's why no one questions when one, two, six children disappear. They were orphans, street rats, the lowest of the low.
Maybe that's why no one questions when one, two, five little bodies are found....six children.....five bodies.......and no questions.
11 years ago, unknown location.
Why hasn't the Man and Lady in White come today?
A steady dripping sound echos off of white walls. Shadows darted up same walls.
Did I do something bad?
Small feet pad quietly through large puddles,small hands touch white walls. Both come away stained and sticky red.
Is the man with the black hat coming for me? Like he did for the others?
Small hands grasp a door knob, opening to an office. The terminal lay on the ground, blinking in a steady pace. Reminding the owner of a message they'll never read.
Did they leave me? Am I...alone?
Small eyes trace over words on the flat screen, recalling lessons that the Lady in White gave her.
“Ter-mi-nate” A small voice stutters, causing the little body to jump.
Oh....that was my voice
The little body turns from the terminal, eyes catching on a symbol painted on the walls. The same on the Man and Lady in White's clothing. Under the symbol is a word.
Little hands lift to a little mouth. A little tongue licks little fingers clean of sticky red on them. A little figure hides in a little shadow.
What a sad little thing
Present Day Double Windsor.
The picture was of a small girl, 18 in age by the look of her. Bright red ribbon curls for hair, pale nightlife skin, and a frowning mouth,all set against the backdrop of New York's neon light.
Her eyes were turned away from the camera,she most likely didn't know her picture was being taken. Darkened green, peering out from under black lashes.
Such sad eyes.
Erik sighed tiredly,rubbing sleep from his eyes. Sometimes being a P.I was not worth it. The pay wasn't fixed, and he had to deal with some shady characters. Take the people who hired him to “track her down”.
Sighing again he paid for his drink and stared again at the picture he held in his hands. Something wasn't right about this whole thing.
Powered by vBulletin® Version 4.2.0 Copyright © 2013 vBulletin Solutions, Inc. All rights reserved.