Post by gennie on Sept 24, 2009 22:18:09 GMT -5
I'm upset with the length of this, but here it is.V
“Wh-what..?”
His voice trembled. His large, aged fingers gripping his knee, the other hand cold with sweat, slipping constantly upon the honey-toned hardwood floor; if he only had his office carpet beneath him, he’d have some leverage in this world. The man was blinded by fear; his glazed, old eyes blinking wildly trying so damn hard to get a clear outline of the culprit that towered before him. He never realized how dark his office truly was, it also did not help the fact that it was well into the evening, the sun had settled quite a few hours before, and this man had planned on shutting his computer off, pushing his chair in, locking his door and the building, and being on his merry little way—until this happened. Maybe he should’ve never allowed his employees to go home early this post-holiday evening? Maybe he should’ve kept that .9 mm Glock tucked neatly underneath his handkerchief in the top right hand drawer in his desk, in hopes of preventing what now is happening? But more importantly—why?
And so the man asked, his words shaking and dry, “Wh-why..?”
His office was known to be the noisy one of the bunch. He had so many employees visit him from down the hall, asking favors and returning them. The phone never seemed to stop ringing, and that was no problem for the old business man. He enjoyed the company, the potential phone call, but now… now everything was engulfed in an eerie silence. It was so quiet that the man’s ear picked up the pattering of rain drops against his office window; he remembered closing the blinds earlier that evening.
A cold sweat formed at his brow, his deep brown eyes desperately searching for a glance at the hidden figure from behind fogged glasses. At any other moment the man would gently lift his hand, remove his glasses ever so professionally, take the end fabric of his vest, and wipe the lens with a warm aura about him. He never was the trouble maker, but the second-chance giver. The man could admit he did his wrongs in life, but he also did his rights. After all, being the owner of a big shot company of medical supplies with his name being known to all, it even being used to name a hospital in town, a man’s got to learn from life’s lessons. But how would he learn from this one?
“P-Please I’m sure w-we could…” The old man swallowed a lump that somehow mysteriously formed and lodged in his throat, “…f-figure something o-out?” His words were almost breathless.
He brought the hand that gripped his knee to his mouth, he coughed, and somewhere in the air the figure across him budged, only slightly, but budged nonetheless. The man felt this happening, and it was a weird sensation that crawled his skin, making it cold, and slid down his back. Never in his life had he felt naked when fully clothed. Although he couldn’t see the figure before him, something deep inside him tugged at the nerves in his hands, pulling them up and in front of his face in an act of defense.
“P-Please, wh-what have I d-done?” The man cried out, his voice finally cracked. He couldn’t hold that pulsing sob in his throat anymore, and once those words finally slipped past his lips, a longing cry closely followed.
And even through the nerve-wracking scene, a teenager would find thrilling at a horror movie, the business man refused to shut his eyes, and so allowed his wise brown gaze to settle upon the darkened silhouette that was now becoming clear to him. The massive blob was enclosing on a shape, but no matter how hard the old man squinted his eyes to make out a face, he came to no avail; however, the man did feel a shift in the air and a more pressuring presence before him.
Whoever that towered him must’ve paced closer. The thunder rolled outside.
And in an instance the old man resumed his frightened position, hands blocking his face, but eyes locked on the shifting abyss. “P-please, just tell me, wh-what have I done?”
“Plenty.” Lightning lit the room. The old man’s eyes widened in horror and recognition.
“Y-you!” Was all the man could cry out as the culprit brought down its weapon upon the crown of his head. The man’s lifeless body collapsed to the floor in a heap; thick, crimson liquid soon leaked the cranium that gave the room a murky atmosphere, yet somewhere in the room a smile stretched far, and wide. “Plenty,” it repeated.
“Wh-what..?”
His voice trembled. His large, aged fingers gripping his knee, the other hand cold with sweat, slipping constantly upon the honey-toned hardwood floor; if he only had his office carpet beneath him, he’d have some leverage in this world. The man was blinded by fear; his glazed, old eyes blinking wildly trying so damn hard to get a clear outline of the culprit that towered before him. He never realized how dark his office truly was, it also did not help the fact that it was well into the evening, the sun had settled quite a few hours before, and this man had planned on shutting his computer off, pushing his chair in, locking his door and the building, and being on his merry little way—until this happened. Maybe he should’ve never allowed his employees to go home early this post-holiday evening? Maybe he should’ve kept that .9 mm Glock tucked neatly underneath his handkerchief in the top right hand drawer in his desk, in hopes of preventing what now is happening? But more importantly—why?
And so the man asked, his words shaking and dry, “Wh-why..?”
His office was known to be the noisy one of the bunch. He had so many employees visit him from down the hall, asking favors and returning them. The phone never seemed to stop ringing, and that was no problem for the old business man. He enjoyed the company, the potential phone call, but now… now everything was engulfed in an eerie silence. It was so quiet that the man’s ear picked up the pattering of rain drops against his office window; he remembered closing the blinds earlier that evening.
A cold sweat formed at his brow, his deep brown eyes desperately searching for a glance at the hidden figure from behind fogged glasses. At any other moment the man would gently lift his hand, remove his glasses ever so professionally, take the end fabric of his vest, and wipe the lens with a warm aura about him. He never was the trouble maker, but the second-chance giver. The man could admit he did his wrongs in life, but he also did his rights. After all, being the owner of a big shot company of medical supplies with his name being known to all, it even being used to name a hospital in town, a man’s got to learn from life’s lessons. But how would he learn from this one?
“P-Please I’m sure w-we could…” The old man swallowed a lump that somehow mysteriously formed and lodged in his throat, “…f-figure something o-out?” His words were almost breathless.
He brought the hand that gripped his knee to his mouth, he coughed, and somewhere in the air the figure across him budged, only slightly, but budged nonetheless. The man felt this happening, and it was a weird sensation that crawled his skin, making it cold, and slid down his back. Never in his life had he felt naked when fully clothed. Although he couldn’t see the figure before him, something deep inside him tugged at the nerves in his hands, pulling them up and in front of his face in an act of defense.
“P-Please, wh-what have I d-done?” The man cried out, his voice finally cracked. He couldn’t hold that pulsing sob in his throat anymore, and once those words finally slipped past his lips, a longing cry closely followed.
And even through the nerve-wracking scene, a teenager would find thrilling at a horror movie, the business man refused to shut his eyes, and so allowed his wise brown gaze to settle upon the darkened silhouette that was now becoming clear to him. The massive blob was enclosing on a shape, but no matter how hard the old man squinted his eyes to make out a face, he came to no avail; however, the man did feel a shift in the air and a more pressuring presence before him.
Whoever that towered him must’ve paced closer. The thunder rolled outside.
And in an instance the old man resumed his frightened position, hands blocking his face, but eyes locked on the shifting abyss. “P-please, just tell me, wh-what have I done?”
“Plenty.” Lightning lit the room. The old man’s eyes widened in horror and recognition.
“Y-you!” Was all the man could cry out as the culprit brought down its weapon upon the crown of his head. The man’s lifeless body collapsed to the floor in a heap; thick, crimson liquid soon leaked the cranium that gave the room a murky atmosphere, yet somewhere in the room a smile stretched far, and wide. “Plenty,” it repeated.
