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The Finale

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posted on Jul, 25 2004 @ 04:19 PM
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This is my first attempt at a story of any kind. I hope you like it. Criticism is welcomed, wether good or bad. Just let it fly.

The Finale
A man comes charging through a gate. He runs towards an unconsciousness man propped up against the wall.

A loud noise startles me awake.

“Joe, are you alright? Come on it’s me Bill; I found a spot to hide!”

“Joe, who the heck is that?” Why is this guy calling me Joe? Reality hits as I see this man get flung backwards and slam into a group of tables and chairs. He is lying motionless.

The wall I’m hiding behind is a small half wall that is part of an outdoor café. The café, which adjoins the courtyard, is empty except for us. The shooter wouldn’t have a problem hitting me. If I stay low maybe I can crawl to him. There is only one meter between us. I use the tables that are still standing as cover and crawl the short distance to him. I heard him say his name is Bill, but I have no idea who he is. There is a small hole in front of his forehead. The back part of his head, well, let’s just say, isn’t there. He was shot with a hollow point round. Shot by someone on the other side of the courtyard.

I get up and run through the café making sure to stay away from windows and doors. The café is small and quaint. There is enough space for 20 or 30 people. The tables are small enough for 2 or 3 people. There are 17th century paintings on the wall, and a very beautiful Persian rug that is now stained with fluids and matter that was once Bill’s brain. What a shame.

The café door is forced open with the help of my boot. All is quite once I’m out of the café. There is no one around. I’m not sure of the time or date, so I don’t know how many people should be out. There is a house that sits atop a hill down the cobble stone road. The house is a beautiful two story, with a good size front lawn, and a well grown garden on the south side.

The sun is setting. This is a good time to approach the house from the back side. I am sure that the shooter will not be able to see me. The grass is well manicured. There is a cracking of a twig. When I turn a round there are two Doberman Pincers about 10 meters from me. Instinctively I crouch into a firing position and pull out my silenced 9MM and let the dogs have it. Both dogs are silenced and still. The adrenalin really starts to hit me.

Getting inside the house was surprisingly easy. The house, it seems, was unlocked. There is no sound from the house, none at all. Quietly, I make my way to the second floor and find a bedroom that faces the direction of the café and ultimately the shooter. The bedroom is huge. It must be the master bedroom. I collapse on the bed in need of some god awful rest. I am awoken to the annoying sound of an alarm clock. Out of reflex I hit the snooze button.

I open my eyes slowly to adjust to the invasive light coming in from the windows. Hanging my legs over the side, I slide off of the bed and notice two pictures on the nightstand, both of a couple. The man calling himself Bill is in the picture with a lovely woman. This same woman is in the second picture with me. The caption on the bottom of both picture say “Together Forever.” Ah, I feel a big stretch coming on. I steal a quick glance out of the window. I turn towards the door only to have this unknown force propel me towards the windows. As I lay there gasping for breath, a masked gunman appears. The gunman stands over me aiming my pistol at me, and removes their mask. The woman in the picture is standing over me.

“Joe, you have cheated on me for the last time.”

The last sound made, is that of the slide retracting on my silenced 9MM pistol. The shooter surveys the motionless body of her prey with joy.




 
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